Uncertain Future
by Urby
Summary: Miki Hoshii "woke up" the night the Producer saved her life. She decided to dedicate herself to him...but things don't go as well as she hoped.
1. Accident

_July 23rd, year 1_

The girls were supposed to be working, but it was such a beautiful day, the indoor resort was so open and realistic, and the shoot over was so quickly that it soon dissolved into an outing at the beach. The others were playing by the water, while Miki stretched out on the sand and dozed. The Producer was sitting next to her.

"You know, Miki, you're the only person I know whose hair gets darker the more they're out in the sun," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's subtle, but you can tell around here especially," he pointed around the top of her head.

Miki sat up with a giggle. "Silly Producer! You don't know?"

"Know what?"

She flicked her hand away into a pistol shape. "Miki didn't get this way naturally! It's dyed."

The Producer's mouth was open for a second in silent realization. "Ha! I never would have guessed. It looks good on you."

"Doesn't it?" she said, flopping back onto the sand. "Miki'll have to redye it soon, though. It's such a hassle!"

He didn't say anything for a while. "Well, it's something you've got to work out, right?"

"Yeah..."

The other idols went back to the offices, but Miki had another job to do later in the afternoon. This one took a lot longer. By the time she was finished, her mood had soured considerably.

"Hey, cheer up," the Producer smiled at her as he held the door open. "We're all done!"

She pouted a little more before speaking. "Those guys were so mean to Miki! Being so bossy like that...Miki won't go back there again!"

"We can't really help it," the Producer sighed. "Try to bear it a little longer, okay?"

She crossed her arms with a huff, turning away.

"Hey! We'll walk back to the office, how's that? It's nice out, not too cold, and the sky's clear. Let's forget about this, okay?"

"...Okay."

Once away from the building complex, Miki forgot about the promotion quickly and returned to her cheerful self, stooping over puddles and examining the stars. She even found a stray cat and managed to coax it out from the shadows to play.

"We should get going, Miki, it's getting a little late..."

"But this kitty is so cute! Look!"

The Producer shifted between his feet for a moment before kneeling beside her.

"It is pretty cute."

"See? Miki said. And you didn't believe Miki!"

"That's not true..."

He stood to look at his watch. Then he looked around for a moment as if he was trying to realize something he'd forgotten.

A light was approaching.

"Miki -!"

There was a blaring sound. Miki looked up just in time to see the Producer shove her out of the way. Then he was covered up by an automobile.

"Producer-san!"

There was no answer. The cat had fled, but had scratched her before it ran away. She lifted her arm to look at the gashes, but she didn't feel any pain. There was just a heavy feeling in her throat and stomach.

The man driving the car got out and was shouting. After looking around the scene, he retreated into his car and made a call. Miki watched this, only barely realizing what it all meant. Crawling on her hands and knees, she found the Producer lying a ways away from the car. "Producer-san," she tried to say, but she could barely even hear herself. She tried again, but couldn't get any louder.

The Producer's eyes cracked open and he looked at her. He seemed very tired. "Hey," his voice was a croak. "Miki, hey..."

She leaned in, nodding desperately.

"Don't cry. Let's see a smile, okay?"

But it was only when he told her not to cry did the tears come.

* * *

><p>Everyone at the hospital was friendly and patient, which only made Miki feel even more useless. They had taken care of her wound in a few minutes, but they wouldn't let her see the Producer until they had patched him up. It'll be done before the night is over, they kept telling her. They'd been telling her that for the past several lifetimes, it seemed. After a while she stopped asking and managed to get her crying under control. She watched the clock and tried to get her breathing evened out, but every few minutes she would sob and that would wreck her concentration. Finally, she closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep.<p>

"Miki, you're still here?"

Her eyes snapped open. The Producer was sitting across from her. A pair of crutches rested on the wall beside him.

"Help..."

He leaned in with a questioning noise.

"Can Miki be of any help..." she couldn't muster the volume to make that into a question.

The Producer clasped one of her hands, looking straight into her eyes as he spoke. "No, I'm fine. I'm going to be okay. It's not your fault, hey?"

Miki stared back, repeating those words in her mind to make sure to understand them. She felt her throat tingle, and her eyes stung again...

"Miki! Hey, it's gonna be alright. It's a minor fracture. Miki, _I don't blame you_."

She covered her face and wept. She knew crying at this point was stupid - she had just stopped a few minutes ago! but with him here, telling her that things were going to be okay...it just happened. She felt like an idiot. "Miki's sorry...Miki was..."

"Miki, listen," he was clenching her hand. With difficulty she lowered her arm enough to look back at him. "I need you to do something for me."

"Uh-huh..."

"I'm going to take some days off. I need you to tell the other girls I'm not going to show. Can I count on you to do that?"

She nodded and felt another wave of tears break.

"Shhh, it'll be fine. This is nothing. Take it easy next week, okay? You deserve it."

Miki did not feel like she _deserved_ any comfort. The Producer left with a friend of his, and a few minutes later her parents came to pick her up. Her mother hugged her close and immediately began fussing with her hair. Miki felt even more useless than before, but even so, she couldn't bring herself to tell her mother to stop. She let herself be led to her room when they got home. Her mother kissed her forehead to wish her goodnight, and told her if she needed anything to shout or something, really it wouldn't be a big deal. Then she left and Miki was alone in her room. She took a tottering step towards her desk, then changed her mind and collapsed on her bed before her legs gave out.

Worthless. It was because she was being stupid that this all happened. It didn't matter what the Producer told her, this _was_ her fault.

She lifted a fist and dropped it on the back of her head a few times. "Stupid. Dumb. Idiot."

Saying those words didn't change anything. She knew that already.

She unclenched her hand and dug the nails into her scalp. "Idiot." Then she started to cry again, not because it hurt, but because she felt ill and helpless and someone got hurt and it was her fault. She curled up, threw her blanket over her head, and wept into her hands until the tears ran out.

After a few minutes of silence, she sat up, suddenly fed up with doing nothing. After all, the Producer had given her something to do, hadn't he? He was counting on her, wasn't he?

It was way too late in the night to be making calls, but she could send a text message to everyone. She was in no shape to talk anyway, with racking sobs shaking her every few seconds. She really wanted to stop that, having put away all of her tears, but they were persistent and wouldn't stop and it was so _annoying_.

"Stupid," she muttered as she typed, but it was no longer just towards herself. "Stupid stupid dumb idiot, stop crying already."

There. She had just sent a message to all of the other idols, and Kotori even, that the Producer wouldn't be available for the rest of the week, maybe more. It was up to them to get it and make of it what they would. She wiped her face on her arm. It was getting pretty damp from having to do that so much.

Though she was tired, she was alert from all of her crying. She decided to take a shower and stepped into the bathroom. She looked down at the counter to the bottle of hair dye. She picked it up, considered it for a moment, then threw it in the trash. As she undressed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She leaned on the counter and glared at her reflection.

Such a small, good-for-nothing girl, with her head in the clouds all the time. She felt a sudden pang of wrath towards the reflection. Without thinking, she put some soap on her finger and drew lines on the mirror. "When Miki comes back...there'll be a new Miki here. One that doesn't let these kinds of things happen. One that's strong, and sure."

Yes, that sounded right. With that declaration, she stepped into the shower, clawing at her scalp.

When she got out, the clock said that she had spent a little less than an hour in the shower. It felt like she had been there much longer sloughing off her old self.

She looked into the mirror again. The lines she had drawn on the mirror were stark and clear against the steam. They spelt out the word "honey", but she couldn't remember why she did that. Part of her wanted to dismiss it as foolishness, but it also seemed significant somehow.

Looking beyond the word, she saw that she had managed to get the color out of her roots and the hair around her face, but there was still a distinct blonde tint to the rest. She wouldn't be getting that out. She had run out of shampoo. Still, something had to be done about it.

Miki saw her cell phone poking out of her skirt pocket, and she had an idea. A silly, reckless idea, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"Hello? Miki? ...This is Miki, right?"

The Producer sounded less sleepy than she expected him to be. She looked to the message she had written in the mirror to steel herself.

"Producer-san, what do you think of short-haired girls?"


	2. Competition

_"Short-haired girls? I guess like them. Yeah, I do."_

He had said it. It was decided, then.

_August 5th, year 1_

One of the first things Miki noticed after she had her hair cut was how bare her shoulders were. Instead of feeling exposed, she rather liked it. It made her feel bold.

The Producer came in without the use of crutches or a cane, but someone who was paying close attention would be able to tell that he favored one leg. Miki saw this and guilt tugged at the side of her mouth for a second. But it was only a second, and then she came over to hug him.

"Miki! You...you have a new look," he said, and he idly fingered the fringes of her hair. That made her feel bubbly inside.

"You like it?"

He smiled, dropping his hand to her shoulder. "It's nice. It suits you."

Those were not the words she wanted to hear, but the answer amounted to the same thing. She snuggled deeper into his chest. "If it makes Honey happy, then Miki is happy too."

The Producer's expression changed when he heard the new nickname, though she thought she saw positive emotions in it. After a moment he laughed and patted her head. "Okay Miki, that's enough. You can let go now." So she did.

Yayoi and the two Futami twins passed by on their way to the dance hall, so he said hello to them and gave them some instructions. When he turned around, he looked surprised to see that Miki was still there.

"Is there something you want, Miki?"

She had told herself she had to say this ever since that night, and acted this scene out in her mind many times, but still, it was a moment before she spoke.

"Miki did...something terrible...back then."

"Huh?" The Producer blinked at her. "Ah, about my leg...you're still worried about that?"

"Let Miki make it up to you! Miki will do anything Honey says."

He sighed and shifted his weight to one side, scratching the back of his head. Then, firming his expression, he put his hand on her shoulder again. "Work hard and don't give up, Miki. Be your best. That's all I'll ask of you."

She took that request to heart. Sure, she had made her own personal vows to make herself into a better person, but the fact that he wanted her to doubled her efforts. She would become the best singer, the best dancer, the best-looking idol 765pro had ever seen. She would become something the Producer could be proud of, something he desired.

Maddeningly, he started directing his attention towards producing some of the other idols who were lagging behind in popularity. For a few days she fumed and pouted about this when she had the chance, but soon got tired of feeling that way and returned to working hard. After all, it would be more attractive for him to see her doing her best, wouldn't it? He was clearly impressed with her new energy and trusted her enough to let her take care of herself. She had even picked out her newest song herself. _Furufuru Future_...it seemed to sum up everything she was feeling.

He didn't get the hint, of course, but what could be done about that? Boys sure could be clueless sometimes.

Her new attitude surprised many of the other idols. "Don't you want to take a break?" Ritsuko asked one day.

"Nope," Miki said simply, and no one questioned her drive again.

_October 17th, year 1_

Azusa had told the others that she would be a little later than usual coming in the day before. Miki wondered why she even bothered doing so, since there was no telling when she would come in anyway.

It was around the middle of the afternoon when she came in. Miki was passing through the foyer just then and was able to see her before anyone else did. She put up a hand and offered a greeting, but then realized that something was very different and stopped in her tracks.

Azusa's arms were very covered. Instead of the usual high-collared sleeveless top, she was wearing a cardigan over a blouse. That in itself was a little unusual, but what was most striking was that distinct space around her neck. Miki stared at it in disbelief.

Azusa was leaning towards her with an amused smile. "Good afternoon, Miki-chan," she said in a voice that meant that she was saying that for the second time. Miki hadn't noticed.

"You got a haircut," Miki realized that she was frowning.

Azusa took some of her bangs between her fingers. "Yes, I did. I figured it would be nice to change a little bit, don't you agree?"

Those words lit something inside of Miki's chest. She took a furious step forward, then another, backing Azusa up to a wall.

"Miki-chan...?"

"He told you, didn't he? About what he likes? You thought you would get close to him by doing that, didn't you? That's not going to work! Miki already has him!" That last part wasn't true, but she hoped the claim would make a point.

Azusa's mouth was drawn thin, and Miki was close enough to see her swallow. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, in a softer voice than usual.

Miki clicked her tongue to keep herself from snarling. Playing dumb was a cheap move. "That Honey likes short-haired girls. Isn't that right?"

Instead of the denial Miki was expecting her to say, Azusa's gaze slowly fell to some point in the floor. Miki had no idea what to make of that.

"Ara," Azusa said in drawn-out sigh. "Ara..."

Miki hesitated, then pressed Azusa's chest with a finger. "Miki won't lose to you! Got it?"

Azusa nodded. Satisfied, Miki stepped away to go back to what she was supposed to be doing. She was supposed to meet up with Makoto and Yukiho to do some exercises together. Chihaya was crossing her path on the way, and they exchanged greetings. As they parted, Chihaya turned around to ask, "By the way...have you seen Azusa-san?"

Miki didn't feel like asking why she didn't know Azusa had already arrived, so she just shrugged.

"Alright then. See you later."

It was when she got to the practice room with Yukiho and Makoto that she learned that Azusa had not actually met anyone else that day, and had probably left after their conversation.

"I'm not saying that Azusa-san would go back on her word, but..." Yukiho said over her folded hands, "it is getting rather late, and she hasn't shown up..."

"Miki saw her after lunch," Miki felt compelled to say.

"Really?" Makoto looked up from tying her shoes. "Where at?"

Lying probably would have been simpler, but that didn't feel comfortable. "Here. But she left, apparently."

"I hope she's alright," Yukiho fretted with the strings on her workout jacket.

Makoto's phone started to ring, and she waited until she had finished tying her other shoe to pick it up. "Hello? ...Hey! Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you," Makoto stood up.

"It's Azusa-san? Is she okay?" Yukiho tugged on Makoto's tank top. Miki sighed and wiped some dust off one of the mirrors.

"I'm just about to do some drills...are you okay? Where are you? We've all been..." Makoto paused for a long moment, her expression slowly but surely becoming more serious. Then she agreed to whatever was being discussed a few times and hung up.

"What happened? She's not hurt, is she?"

"Nah, but she said she wanted to talk...to me, that is. I don't really know what's going on, but I'm gonna go."

A ball of malice twitched inside Miki's chest. "Come back soon, Makoto-kun."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry it had to come to this, you two," Makoto said as she packed up her things.

"It's alright," Yukiho tilted her head to one side. "There's always next time."

Other than that, things progressed as normal. Soon enough it was business as usual at 765pro.


	3. Collapse

There were scars on her arm from that day.

They were long, irregular stripes following down her hand, and a different kind of white than the rest of her skin. The first time Miki saw them she thought she was just imagining things, but then she remembered that she, too, had been wounded at that incident. It tied her to him.

She touched them whenever she had the opportunity for a few days. It was hard to believe that they were there, since they were marks only and not bumps or ridges. But then she would run her fingers down the lines and realize that yes, they were real, and she would go over them again because they were so significant.

She liked to catch the Producer's hand with that arm. Sometimes, after hesitating, he would clasp her hand for a brief moment, which was long enough for Miki to dream about.

He was paying more attention to her production again, which made her happy beyond words. He had placed her in a unit with Chihaya for the holidays, which was in its own way a huge compliment because the Producer was notoriously picky when choosing who Chihaya was grouped with. She took that to mean that he thought that she was equal or superior to this esteemed vocalist. The third member of this unit was Haruka, who was...well, Miki didn't really know why he did that after all. Haruka was Haruka.

Whatever his reasons, she was determined to do well. She began working in extra lessons and practices in secret.

_December 23rd, year 1_

In a few minutes the three of them would be onstage again. In the meantime, they were taking a breather while another unit was performing.

"Excellent work, girls. Let's keep it up," the Producer said as he ushered them backstage.

The three girls were panting due to the energy and exhilaration of the performance. Chihaya tried to compose herself by placing a hand on her chest, while Haruka seemed to enjoy the feeling and was laughing. Miki was bent over with her hands on her knees.

"Honey!" she said between gasps. "Did...did Miki do good?"

"Of course. You too, Chihaya," he said, ruffling the blue idol's hat. She made a small grumpy noise. "And last but certainly not least...Haruka, you were great!" he patted Haruka's hair, his hand catching the short strands hanging over her ears for a quick moment.

Miki waited for him to touch her head like he had done with the other two, but he walked away to talk to another group. She leaned back against the wall and took off her headband to look at it, wondering if that was to blame, then sadly placed it back on her head.

"Your antlers are crooked, Miki!" Haruka smiled, adjusting the other's headband. Then she pondered for a moment, as if wondering how that came to be, and gently pushed Miki's cheek. "Your head is leaning a little."

"Huh?"

"You need to stand up straight."

"Miki _is_standing straight," she protested, holding on to the sides of her head.

"I didn't mean to upset you..." Haruka's face fell.

"Miki's okay. Just...still buzzed." That was a lie, since she had multiple ill feelings circulating through her at the moment. There was that pouty feeling of being passed up, and then there was that creeping sensation of needing to keep her eyes shut that was coming back. That one had been bothering her for the past couple of days...

She felt something nudge her arm and turned. Chihaya was holding out a water bottle to her. "You look dehydrated. This should help."

Miki took the bottle and turned it towards her mouth. For a few seconds nothing happened.

"You need to pop the cap, Miki."

Miki did so, feeling foolish, and poured gulp after gulp of water down her throat. She finished with a cough, handing the bottle back to Chihaya. Chihaya swished the bottle to see how empty it was, frowned, then placed it on a stair step.

The water only made Miki feel more nauseous. She put her hands over her eyes.

"Miki, Chihaya-chan! We're up!"

She just had to get through the rest of the live. By then the Producer would have realized that he owed her a little something, wouldn't he? That thought invigorated her. The three of them put a closure to the concert.

The Producer was in the back guiding the other idols out. He turned around and noticed Miki waiting behind him. "Yes? What's the matter?"

Miki opened her mouth to say something, but she was too stunned that he didn't seem to remember after all to say what she intended to say. "...Nothing."

He chuckled and gave her a pat on the shoulder. That gesture made her jump a little because it was so much less than what she had hoped for.

When Miki got home she felt so awful she fell asleep with the headband still on.

_January 4th, year 2_

"Did you have a nice holiday, Mikimiki?" Ami said as she peered over the couch Miki was sitting on. Her twin joined her shortly after.

Miki was drinking an energy drink and couldn't respond for a few seconds. "Yeah! It went by so fast, though."

"Mami has been thinking, and Ami agrees too, that the holiday should be longer. Don't you think so?"

"Everyone would get more presents! And the cool weather would last more."

Miki put a hand to her forehead. "Miki thinks...that it's okay the way it is. It's such a _busy_holiday..."

"Aaah, Mikimiki is complaining that she had too much work to do the last few weeks?" Mami straightened and put a finger to her head.

"Nn, that would be the only reason anyone wouldn't want more Christmas!"

"That's not it," Miki said as she stood, her other hand going to her face as well. "It's...never mind. Miki needs to freshen up a little bit..."

She went into the bathroom and held onto the sink counter for a moment. Then, remembering what she came there for, she splashed some water on her face. After drying herself she leaned over the sink again, wondering how the running water had gotten so quiet. She remained there a few seconds, wondering why that happened while blinking hard. Then she wondered why she was doing _that_and realized that her vision was darkening at the same rate her legs were giving out.

There was a loud thump noise from the bathroom that could be heard a little ways down the hall.

* * *

><p>Miki woke up tucked into a bed. She blinked a few times to get her bearings, then closed her eyes because her head was pounding.<p>

"Miki? Can you hear me?"

Her eyes cracked open again. She found the Producer sitting by the bedside. "Honey," she said, her voice small.

He smiled and sighed in relief. "You gave us quite a fright back there. How do you feel?"

"What happened?" she asked, trying to turn and have a better look around. She was...in a hospital room. They brought her to the hospital? "Why is Miki here?"

"You collapsed," another voice said from beside the Producer. Miki shifted and saw that Haruka was also sitting close to the bed.

"That's nothing."

"You also hit your head," the Producer put in. "You were bleeding a little. The doctors say that you haven't suffered any lasting damage, but you should stay here and recover a bit."

"Miki can go back to work," she said, managing to work her hand out of the sheets. She laid it near him.

"No. Stay and rest. You've been overworking yourself, and you need to slow down," his voice had a hardness to it that made her shrink back a little. She had never seen him angry before.

"Okay. Miki will stay."

"Good girl."

For a moment there was silence. Miki waited, and waited...and nothing happened. Why didn't the Producer take hold of her hand? Surely he would in order to make her feel better.

Her eyes swept around for an explanation, but she didn't find any. The Producer and Haruka rose.

"Rest up. We'll see you in a few days."

Miki was about to give a farewell of her own when her eyes fell on the reason why the Producer didn't hold her hand.

Someone was already holding on to his hand. That other girl. Who happened to have short hair.

"Ha..." was the only thing Miki could make out as she raised her eyes to look into the Producer's. It was so quiet that he didn't appear to hear it, though.

"Take it easy, Miki." And then he and Haruka left.

For a few minutes she stared at the door that they had left out of. Then she placed her arm over her eyes. Slowly, she turned into the pillow and wept.


	4. Black

After a day or two in the hospital, Miki was allowed to go home on the condition that she stay in bed. The change of scenery did little to lift her spirits.

The Producer...her Honey...what happened? She thought that they had a unique relationship that was more intimate than the others. Did he not like her anymore? She tried go over her memories for clues, but they would darken into imagined scenes where he would say or do hurtful things to her. Even though it frightened and upset her to follow those trains of thought, she found them playing through her mind again and again. Only after they got to the point where she started to shed tears would she be able to turn into her pillow and will her thoughts into silence.

She was afraid to let herself think because of what she might imagine, but there was little else to do. Once she asked her mother if she could have a drawing pad, but ended up doodling pointless nothings for a few minutes before putting it away.

The other members of 765pro sent her a barrage of messages which all pretty much amounted to the same thing. The numerous "Get well soon, Miki!" texts all melted into one another, and she found them transparent and insincere after a while.

One message stood out from the rest because it so strikingly different.

"Drop me a line if you need anything." It was from Ritsuko.

Miki stared at it for a few minutes, then managed a weak smile. If anyone would stay businesslike in a situation like this, it would be Ritsuko. She had no idea what to ask for, but saved the message for later.

For the rest of the week she stayed where she was and waited for her strength to come back.

_January 13, year 2_

Miki was finally able to go back to 765pro. She felt decidedly...mixed about that. Despite her conflicting feelings, she showed up at the usual time.

The other girls were pleasantly shocked to see her, and most of them crowded around to congratulate her on her recovery. She had to admit that seeing the others so relieved and pleased made her feel slightly better.

"It's good to have you back!" Haruka held onto Miki's hands.

"Yeah..." Miki didn't lift her eyes from their hands for a moment. "What are we going to do next?"

"Eh?"

"What's Miki going to do with Haruka and Chihaya now? We were working together, right?"

"There is no more 'we'," Chihaya said from behind them. Miki jumped a little at the unexpected noise. "Did you expect that collaboration to be a lasting one?"

Miki almost didn't answer. "...It felt like we were a team," she said at last.

"Producer-san said that we would be working on our solo pieces for a while," Haruka said. "Since the Idol Ultimate is coming up and all."

Even though only one competitor from each production could enter the Idol Ultimate, it was an ideal time for everyone to develop their individual image. That was the last thing Miki wanted. Ever since that event in the hospital, she had a hard time knowing what she wanted to do. Or be.

A morbid part of her knew that she wasn't going to be the one selected to compete in the IU. That was an honor that would surely to go to someone like Chihaya, who was running out of competitions to win. It was unsaid knowledge in the production that she would be entering.

The Producer, however, said nothing of who was going, and trained everyone as usual. With the date rapidly approaching, a whisper of bewilderment began to circle around the office. What was he waiting for? If he put it off for too long, the entry date would have passed.

On January 28th, three days before the entry deadline, the Producer selected Haruka to represent the production.

* * *

><p>There had been, naturally, a hullabaloo amongst the 765pro idols when the news was discovered. Soon, though, it died down to support for the chosen candidate.<p>

Miki tended to leave the room when the Idol Ultimate or Haruka was discussed. It was just another reminder of how the Producer preferred that girl instead of her. The others would ask her every once in a while if everything was alright, but she always dismissed their concern.

Every day felt like a chore. Even seeing her friends at work wasn't enough to cheer her up much.

She felt like what she needed was a change of pace and started looking into getting into another production, but didn't have the motivation to submit her application a few days later.

_February 20th, year 2_

Most of 765pro had gotten tickets to go see the Idol Ultimate live, but a few hadn't and showed up to the office as usual. Instead of working, though, they gathered around the television to see the IU broadcast. Miki hadn't planned on watching it, but even Kotori was shirking her duties. Chihaya and Azusa were there as well.

Miki took a seat near them. Other than the broadcast, the room was totally silent. She chanced a look at the others. Kotori seemed to be the most excited, but was keeping herself quiet by nibbling on her thumbnail. Azusa looked much more serious than usual. Chihaya...had a completely unreadable expression. It was alert, eyebrows slightly furrowed in attention, with her hands folded in front of her mouth. Miki suddenly wondered what she must have looked like.

After a short commercial break, Haruka appeared onstage to perform. A few lines into the song, Miki realized her nails were digging into her hand. Watching this was not something she wanted to do. And yet...she couldn't break her gaze. It took a tapping sensation on her shoulder for her to be able to snap away. It was Azusa.

"Let's go outside," she said in a low voice. "I think this will just make us upset." She looked back at Chihaya as she said this.

Miki stared back at her for a few seconds before nodding and rising.

Kotori looked after them as they left, looked back at the television, then turned it off meekly.

The sun was setting. Even though the temperature was still warm, Chihaya was holding herself tightly, as if she was cold. Azusa, who was following quietly behind, placed her hands on Chihaya's shoulders. Miki felt it would be respectful to the other two to distance herself from them and was about to walk away when she noticed that Chihaya was looking straight at her. She froze.

Then she realized that Chihaya was not actually looking at anything in particular, but was staring off ahead of her with that same expression from before. This time, though, Miki could tell that it was pained.

Miki approached and stopped a step in front of Chihaya. Chihaya made no indication of noticing, so Miki placed her hands on her shoulders, over Azusa's. At that Chihaya blinked and realized the other two were nearby. Her eyes lowered contemplatively, and it was a while before she spoke. When she did, it was almost low enough to be a whisper. "Is it foolish to want to be something greater? I told...Producer that I wanted to be...a voice that touches people." She touched a hand to her eye. "So he promised me he would make me 'top idol'."

Something twinged in Miki's chest.

"Haruka heard of my dream. She said that she thought it was admirable. Said she would support it - cheer me on. And those people...those two...took that dream away from me."

The pain in Miki's chest turned into a heavy weight. She had been so busy with the feelings of her own rejection to notice that someone else was suffering. Now that she thought about it, when she would desert rooms that had conversations of Haruka and the Idol Ultimate, Chihaya would do so as well.

And, more often than not, Chihaya would leave first.

Miki threw her arms around Chihaya in a hug, catching Azusa in the embrace as well. More carefully, Azusa did the same. There was a yelp from Chihaya, but she unwrapped her arms from around herself and held on to the two others. She trembled slightly.

"I know that there are other opportunities, that this is just one competition and being top idol, top idol doesn't mean anything really in the end, that I should be happy for Haruka and I'm really just one out of so many here," she spoke quickly, as if to hold back from breaking into tears, "but I feel betrayed, actually _gashed_ by this, and it's totally illogical. It's a ridiculous way of thinking about it but I can't - stop. Thinking that way."

"Sometimes, the heart and the mind don't agree," Azusa said softly. "When things are so important to us...being logical is difficult."

The three of them stayed outside for a long while, holding each other. Later that evening it was announced that Haruka had won the Idol Ultimate. At that moment, so filled with anger, Miki decided that she would submit her application to the other agency.

_March 3rd, year 2_

For a few days Miki had held on to her conviction to bust out and get a new start. When things were taking longer than she expected, her emotion deflated and she put away those rash thoughts.

The girls on break were being particularly noisy today, so Miki went to the roof for some quiet. She briefly considered sitting on the edge and letting her feet dangle, but decided against it. She had a seat near the stairway and watched the sky instead.

After a few minutes, she felt her phone vibrate near her leg, and she pulled it out. It was from a number she couldn't recognize, though she thought she had seen it or one like it before.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was male, calm and dark - one she had never heard before. "Is this Hoshii Miki?"

Miki held on to her knees. "Yeah."

"I'm Kuroi of 961 Pro. I'm calling on behalf of your application," the voice said. "We'd like you to come in for an additional audition."

Miki was still for a moment. "Okay..."

"You are quite fortunately named," the voice continued. "A _star_ like you would be an excellent addition to our lineup."

Miki curled up a little more as he spoke.

"It's marked here that you are currently at 765 Production. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

The voice tutted sympathetically. "It's a shame about what happened at the Idol Ultimate. Your colleague managed win by a hair, but I am sure that if it was you that was on the stage, you would have stolen the show from everyone else. An amateur mistake by your management..."

Miki didn't want to be reminded of the Idol Ultimate, and a part of her became cold.

"Our girls would love to meet you. Would you mind coming to our premises?"

She couldn't decide. Most of her just wanted to walk away from everything for a while. "Miki doesn't know...can Miki think about this?"

"Take your time," the voice said smoothly. "When you're ready, you know where to find us."

Then there was silence. Miki closed her phone and returned to watching the sky.


	5. Belong

_March 12th, year 2_

In the end, Miki decided to go to the second audition at 961Pro. She had nothing to lose, after all.

She hadn't arrived so early the last time she came, so she didn't have the time to have a good look around the premises. Now that she did, it was decidedly different from 765Pro. It seemed so much more expansive, open, and clean. Not to say that 765Pro was dirty, but here the windows were so shiny that she had a hard time seeing beyond her reflection.

A naughty part of her wanted to run with her hand on the glass and smear it all the way down the hall. Her hand was lifting up to do that when she heard voices from the other side of the room, so she hastily put it in her pocket and half-turned towards the noise.

"Oh! There she is! It must be her! Hey! Hey, over here!" a girl shouted, waving from the doorway. She didn't wait for Miki to cross the room and did so herself. She had very long black hair put up in a ponytail, and her skin was a shade or two darker than most people Miki knew. Behind her was a taller girl with very faint grey hair that billowed around her. She appeared much more composed than her companion. Miki knew them as rival idols and tensed, even though she remembered that she was here to try to join their ranks.

"You're the new girl, right? The one Kuroi's been promising us? It's great to meet you!" the black-haired idol held out a hand. "I'm Ganaha Hibiki! And this here is Takane! Shijou Takane." The grey-haired idol bowed slightly after being mentioned.

Miki clasped the other's hand and gave it a meek shake. "Miki's name is Hoshii Miki...but Miki is just here for another audition. Nothing's sure yet."

"Aw," Hibiki pouted. "So, so you're still at your former production? I remember you from a comp' last summer, back then you had long hair right?"

"Miki...did have a haircut in the summer..."

"Well I think short hair looks good on you," Hibiki nodded confidently.

Miki glanced over at Takane, wondering if she was going to speak up. Takane closed her eyes for a few seconds and said nothing.

"So you're here to make a killing over at the audition and then you'll be one of us, huh?"

"Well...that is..." Miki scratched the back of her neck. "Miki isn't sure. Maybe. Maybe not."

"Why not? You need to get out of your other group! Aren't you one of the 765pro girls right now? Then you really do - I heard the Producer there is a total creep!" Hibiki held on to Miki's hand with an expression of genuine concern. This surprised her.

"The Producer is not a creep. Though he can sometimes be...unkind."

"He touches his idols. We've been told so."

"Miki's pretty sure that Miki would know if he did that."

"Mmmn...yeah, I guess."

For a moment there was silence.

"So what's the matter?"

Miki realized she should respond. "Eh?"

Hibiki tapped the side of her mouth. "You've got a long face. So I'm asking."

Miki's gaze slowly fell. There were a lot of matters. "There's...a lot of things on Miki's mind."

Hibiki seemed to contemplate something, then declared: "I know just what you need to cheer up. I'm going to show you a magic trick."

Miki looked up without moving her head. Though she didn't mean to do so, she could feel one of her eyebrows rising incredulously.

"Yup, a magic trick. But first! You have to close your eyes and hold your hands out."

Something in Hibiki's energy made Miki obey without asking questions.

"Okay! Now wait right there!"

Miki could hear running steps retreating, then doors opening. The steps faded out of earshot, and about a half minute later there was indistinguishable shouting. For some reason this made her laugh.

"This is a habit of hers," she heard from beside her.

Miki opened her eyes to look at the source of the sound. Takane was looking at her with a quietly amused smile.

"Don't forget - you must keep your eyes closed."

Miki quickly shut them and waited. Soon she could hear steps coming towards her.

"You ready? Something magic is going to happen."

"Aaah..."

Miki could feel a pair of hands in her own. They parted and she was left with something...soft and wiggly in her palms. Then she felt the hands on top of hers.

"Okay, now you can open 'em."

She did so and Hibiki lifted her hands away so she could see what she was holding. It was a small hamster.

"Whoa! You found Hamuzou!" Hibiki threw her hands up in the air. "And here I thought _I_ was the one who was going to be doing the magic!"

Miki stared at the little animal for a few seconds, then broke into a smile. She lifted her hands for a closer look.

"So do you feel better?"

In the immediate moment Miki felt happy, and she was grateful for that even though she was still weighed down by the things on her mind. "Thank you."

Hibiki seemed satisfied with this answer and hummed a victory ditty to herself. For a little while Miki played with Hamuzou, then handed the animal back to Hibiki. She was starting to feel down again. Gradually the other two realized this.

"I don't mean to be rude," Takane began, "but why did you apply to this agency? Are you not comfortable in your position at 765 Productions? You seem to have ample opportunity there."

That was a question without a clean answer. "Miki...is...trying to find a place to belong to."

Takane studied her for a long moment. "Perhaps you do not belong _here_."

At this statement Miki looked up in surprise. In that time Hibiki had covered Takane's mouth with a hand.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about," Hibiki said sternly. There was a second's pause, then she jumped back in horror, clinging to her hand. Miki looked back from Hibiki to Takane in confusion.

"Ew! Ew ew ew!" Hibiki shook her hand as if it had been plunged in mud. Takane appeared to be surprised as well at this reaction, and held up her own hand to look at it. She licked it experimentally, paused as if waiting for a realization, then folded her arms back to their usual position. Miki realized what must have happened and quietly chuckled.

"What I mean to say," Takane went on, "is that whatever problem you are...avoiding, you will not relieve yourself of it by joining this production."

"You're saying she should stay there?" Hibiki stepped between them. She turned towards Miki and took a hold of her hand again. "But c'mon! That place isn't for you! You should be here with me and Takane!"

"How did you know...that Miki has a problem?"

Hibiki froze with the blank look of someone realizing that things would not turn out the way that they wanted them to.

"It's evident in the way you are holding yourself. I do not know what is grieving you, but you would be better off facing it, rather than fleeing it."

Miki turned these words over in her head. After a moment she realized she was looking at her arm - the one with the scars on it. She ghosted a finger down the lines.

"961pro has no need for _baggage_, Hoshii-san."

Miki looked back up at Takane, then clenched her hand into a fist. "Right. And Miki doesn't need it either." She walked past them to leave the room.

There was a clock in the hallway. Miki tilted her head at it. In five minutes the audition would start.

Hibiki had followed her out into the hall. "So you're not going to join us?" she asked hesitantly.

Miki narrowed her eyes at the clock, pondering. What was she trying to accomplish by going here, anyway? What was she so scared of that she thought that transferring to a different agency would make things better?

It was not fear, she realized. It was the desire to prove something. And deserting her friends would only prove that she was not strong. If she really wanted to prove that she was better than Haruka, and that she didn't need _that man_ in order to be so, she had to do it there. She crossed her arms and looked back at Hibiki. "Miki has something to do. And it has to be done over at 765pro."

Hibiki bit her lip, as if struggling with something to say. "Then what're you doing standing around _here_ for?"

Miki was already running out of the hall. "Miki will be seeing you! Thanks for the talk!"

Hibiki lingered around the corner, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting, "Next time we meet, don't think we'll go easy on you!"

As Miki was leaving the building she had an idea. She flipped open her phone and went through her contact list. It was only when she was outside that she was able to make the call. It was answered almost immediately.

"What is it, Miki?" Ritsuko asked from the other end.

"You told Miki once that if Miki needed anything to call. So Miki is calling in a favor."

"Alright then," Ritsuko seemed faintly amused. "So what will it be?"

"You have access to the song archives right? Find something powerful for Miki's next song."

Ritsuko made an idle noise and Miki could hear her opening doors. "What kind of 'powerful' are we talking about here?"

"Vengeful. Strong. Proud. Not something that everyone's been doing lately."

There was a pause that was occasionally broken by rustling papers. "...I think I've got it. The next time you're in the office, it's yours."

Miki gave her thanks and went to 765pro first thing the next morning. Ritsuko had the file in her hand. "Don't forget to get an okay from the Producer before you get too involved in this," she said, giving the file to Miki. The folder read "relations". Miki leafed through the lyrics and was pleased with what she saw.

"Miki has to show this to someone first," she said, leaving to find that someone.

Chihaya was listening to her CD player in the lobby.

"Chihaya! Are you busy right now?"

Chihaya removed her earphones and looked at Miki. "No...I wrapped up recording my last song a few days ago. I've been waiting for my next assignment, actually..."

"Good. Miki found a song to sing with you." Miki pushed the file towards her. Chihaya picked it up and examined it, humming the tune as she read.

"Well? Will you sing this with Miki?"

Chihaya chuckled helplessly and looked back up at her. "Yes, it's fine! If you have this all sorted out, then I don't see why not. Why are you so excited about it, anyway?"

Miki let out her breath in a determined huff. "It's a statement."


	6. The Wandering Mind: Secret

_October 17th, year 1_

While most dancing lessons were done under the supervision of either the Producer or an instructor, on occasion the girls would come together for their own run-throughs and practices. Because of her skill and because she was easy to get along with, Makoto was often asked to help or lead the others in learning and perfecting their routines. Sometimes it felt like being pulled in too many directions, but she was glad to help out regardless.

This day had been planned for some time to be a general practice day with Miki and Yukiho. It was a little difficult to arrange, as the three of them were in separate units. To be honest, Makoto wasn't expecting too much to come out of it. A meeting like this would probably dissolve into a bunch of goofing around. Still, it would be fun to hang out with two of her friends while pretending to get some work done. There had been a little bit of worry circulating around the production because Azusa hadn't shown up all day, but that didn't stop the three of them from meeting up in the practice room late in the afternoon.

Yukiho was fretting over her hands. "I'm not saying that Azusa-san would go back on her word, but...it is getting rather late, and she hasn't shown up..."

There was a pause. "Miki saw her after lunch."

Makoto looked up. Miki was looking away, pretending to be interested in the mirror. "Really? Where at?"

Miki made a half-motion that looked like a shrug. "Here. But she left, apparently."

Yukiho began fiddling with the adjustable strings on her jacket. "I hope she's alright," she said faintly.

Makoto went back to tying her shoes. It wasn't unheard of for one of the idols to show up to 765pro and decide shortly afterwards that they just didn't feel like working and take the day off. They would get properly scolded by the Producer when they came back, of course, but pretty much every one of them had done that at some point. Every one of them except for Azusa, and it seemed odd for her to start now. It just didn't seem like her.

Makoto's phone started ringing. For a moment she thought about turning it off without answering it, but figured that it should be a quick call, so she picked it up. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Makoto-chan...it's just me."

It was Azusa. She had taken a breath before saying that, which struck Makoto as out of place for a moment.

"Hey! Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you," she said, standing up and tucking some hair behind her ear.

She felt a tugging at her tank top and turned to Yukiho's worried face. "It's Azusa-san? Is she okay?"

Makoto nodded quickly to dismiss her because Azusa was talking again. "I'm sorry to bother you...how are you doing? I nearly forgot to ask. I've been a little...oh, I've had things on my mind distracting me..."

"I'm just about to do some drills," Makoto took a step, as if that would bring her closer to wherever Azusa was. "Are you okay? Where are you? We've all been -"

"I am fine," Azusa said in a pressing voice. "Oh, that isn't...if you're busy though, then I'll wait..."

Makoto flashed a quick look at the other two in the room. Yukiho was still close by, as if trying to hear what Azusa was saying. Miki was fussing with her reflection.

"Wait?" Makoto asked in a low voice.

Azusa paused, then sighed. "I would...really appreciate if you came by. I wanted to talk, it's important. But you said you were going to be working, so..." she trailed off.

Makoto blinked a few times in the silence.

"I feel like I'm out of options, you know? As if I can't make a good choice no matter what I do. ...Oh, I'm not making any sense. I should hang up before I say something crazy."

"I'll go," Makoto said before she realized it. "Hang on."

"You will? Are you sure it isn't much of a bother?" Azusa's relief was audible through her concern.

"...Mh."

"I'm at a café down by the place we had our last live...do you know how to get there?"

"Yeah, I see it. I'll be seeing you."

"Thank you so much, Makoto-chan..."

"No prob," she said and hung up. After she did that she shook her head, biting her lip a little.

"What happened? She's not hurt, is she?" Yukiho had detached herself from her tank top by now.

Makoto knelt to gather her things. "Nah, but she said she wanted to talk...to me, that is." Though she couldn't imagine why. "I don't really know what's going on, but I'm gonna go."

Miki was looking down at her, her expression cold. "Come back soon, Makoto-kun."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry it had to come to this, you two."

"It's alright. There's always next time."

Makoto looked up at Yukiho, who was tilting her head. Her genuinely open, almost puppylike expression contrasted so heavily with Miki's look of disappointment that Makoto had to laugh.

"I'll talk to the Producer and see if he can make some space in our schedules so it'll be easier to do this again. Why don't the two of you think of something for us to work on in the meantime?"

The others seemed to be happy enough with that task, so Makoto left, putting on her jacket as she left the building.

* * *

><p>The café wasn't too far away, but when she got there she couldn't see where Azusa was by looking through the window. For a tense moment she thought that perhaps Azusa had left, but then she caught the little blue ahoge swaying from a booth in the back. "Azusa-san! I came as fast as I could -" Makoto said while walking towards her. She stopped when she was able to see Azusa's face.<p>

"It's alright," Azusa smiled, then turned towards Makoto, who was still wide-eyed. "...Are you going to sit down?"

Makoto realized her mouth was open and put a hand over it. "Yeah - but, but you got a haircut!" she sat down and put her hands between her knees. It was hard not to stare. "...And it's a really cute one!"

"Ah, yes...so you like it then."

Makoto pulled an elbow to the table and rested her chin on her hand. ...It was very hard not to stare. "...Maybe I should get a haircut like that."

"You are very cute the way you are, Makoto-chan."

"Heheh...thanks."

Azusa's gaze fell into her coffee cup. Makoto put her hand back between her knees, looking around the café at the silence.

"...Do you not like your haircut? Is that it?" Makoto said gently, looking back at Azusa.

"Oh, no - yes, I'm a little sad about it, but it'll grow on me, I'm sure." She rested her cheek on her fist, following the rim of her coffee cup with a finger. "Alright, it's partly involved. There are a lot of things..."

Azusa trailed off, and Makoto found herself looking around again. She shifted so she was facing the other and cleared her throat to see if that would make her volunteer more information.

"Is there anything you'd like from the menu, Makoto-chan? I'll get it for you...it's the least I can do after dragging you out here."

That wasn't what she wanted to have happen, but Azusa seemed determined to get something for her. "Ah, hm...I'll have some cinnamon chocolate, I guess?"

Azusa smiled and returned with the cinnamon chocolate a few minutes later.

Makoto didn't wait for another silence. "So what is it that's bugging you? You said the haircut was part of it?"

Azusa heaved a deep sigh and bit her tongue for a brief moment. "Well, I was...getting some unwanted attention before in part due my hair, so I thought that I could get it cut and have some relief. But it turns out that it might not work that way..."

"Unwanted attention?" Makoto asked over her cup.

"Yes," Azusa brought her cup to her mouth with a tired smile. "Almost...advances? It was all very subtle, but rather bothersome regardless."

This was all news to Makoto. This seemed like something she should have seen or known about, especially since she and Azusa had been in the same unit until recently. "You told me once that the attention you got from your fans was kind of flattering, though..."

"It is!" Azusa looked out the window, putting her cup down. "It's nice to see the fans are so spirited. But...this is about one person in particular, and it's hard to accept those feelings from someone when...you know you have them for someone else."

Someone harrassing Azusa was a serious issue, of course, but the last line was too exciting to ignore. "You mean you like someone, Azusa-san?" Makoto almost sprang out of her seat.

"Please keep your voice down..."

"Sorry. It's just," Makoto covered her mouth with her hands and fell silent in case anyone had overheard. "Is it someone I know?"

Azusa turned back to her cup, tracing the rim again. Her smile was a sad one. "Yes."

"Hee," Makoto squeaked behind her hands. "Can I guess who it is?"

"You can try. Fu fu."

"Is it someone we work with?"

"That's right."

Makoto smiled and spread her hands so she could rest her chin on them. "Is it the Producer?"

Azusa stiffened and shook her head, eyes shut. "Oh no! Not Producer-san."

Makoto's smile drooped. That was a rather pointed reaction. "Huh, in that case...is it the photographer at the studio?"

Azusa shook her head.

"The man that organizes the events, then? I forget his..." Makoto trailed off when Azusa was shook her head again. "Oh, it's got to be the record guy! He's so nice to you, and..."

Azusa chuckled softly, opening her eyes to look down at her cup. "Not any of those..."

Makoto scratched the back of her head helplessly. "...Can I have another hint?"

Azusa hesitated, opening her mouth like she was going to speak a few times, then took out a pen and made a few short strokes on a napkin. She capped the pen and handed the napkin across the table.

On the napkin was a name. Makoto stared at it for a few long seconds before realizing who it was.

"Are you sure?" she said in a small voice. "I - I don't mean it's bad or anything, it's just...well..."

Azusa sighed again. "When you feel strongly about a person, do you ask yourself 'are you sure'?"

Makoto lowered her head slightly.

"Of course I...tried to convince myself otherwise. But that just felt like lying to myself and I couldn't bear it. I don't want to be apart from this person, but..."

"But there's this other somebody that's bothering you?" Makoto said quietly.

"Yes, exactly. I can't see the somebody I do want to see without...having to deal with the person I _don't_ want to see. And..." That last word had a pitch to it that foretold tears.

"Azusa-san," Makoto leaned over to put a hand on the other's shoulder. Azusa had covered her eyes. "...How 'bout we go outside?"

Azusa nodded and the two of them left the café. As they walked Makoto felt Azusa hang on to her hand, so she held on to it as they started walking towards the park nearby.

"It's very nice out," Azusa said in a low tone so a sob wouldn't break her voice.

"Yeah, the last couple days had kinda lousy weather."

The two of them paused some distance from the swingsets.

"So this person who's been bugging you...who is it?"

"Hm?" Azusa was wiping her eye with a hand.

"Tell me who that person is so I can do something about it," Makoto frowned.

"No," Azusa covered her eye with her palm. "You mustn't - and I couldn't tell you who it was anyway..."

Makoto turned away so she could glare at something else for a few seconds. "Then...why tell me all of this stuff you just talked about if you didn't want me to worry about it?"

"I needed to get it off my chest...really."

"Don't you have some...closer friend you can talk to?"

Azusa looked down. "Tomomi would just...think I'm being unreasonable...or say that I'm confused about my feelings...I couldn't..."

She firmed her expression and placed the hand that was on her eye on top of theirs. "But Makoto-chan, you _are_ a close friend of mine!" Her voice was loud enough for the strained quality of crying to be audible. "You are, and I trust you...not to tell anyone."

Makoto stared at her.

"Alright," she said finally.

"Thank you so much, Makoto-chan," Azusa hugged her close. "I'm sorry that you have to carry this with me...but I couldn't keep it to myself. It was too painful..."

"It's okay. I get it."

Later Azusa left to take the train home. Makoto stayed in the park for a while longer, sitting on one of the swings.

She noticed that she was still holding on to the napkin with the name on it. She looked at it for a moment, then folded it and tore it up over a trashcan to protect Azusa's secret.


	7. Break

**_Trigger warning: sexual harassment, girls liking girls_**

* * *

><p>Before, Miki had used the Producer's attention as strength to go on. What she was using as her motivation now was distinctly different. It was a pure, hot feeling of <em>drive<em> - one that she could not describe in its entirety. Its exact nature evaded her, but that did not diminish its power.

Saying that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore was neither true nor untrue. That man, whom Miki had called her Honey around a half a year, became something of an enemy. She could not exactly avoid him, since he was the _Producer_, but her feelings regarding him became more and more resentful. She didn't seem to need him as much as the others, anyway. If some of her previous successes were anything to go by, she could find a way to make herself appealing to fans, regardless of his help.

Part of her wanted him to stay away, but she also wanted him to witness her accomplish things by herself. Then, he'd be amazed at what she had achieved on her own. She used the idea of his amazement to fuel her progress and hated his back when he walked away after giving her instructions.

This quiet disdain kept her going and before she knew it, spring was in full bloom. With it came complications at school concerning boys.

It was not unusual for her to be approached by her male classmates, but there was something in the quality of their proposals, or of her new self-image, that made her dislike them. They suddenly seemed unceasing and simpering and Miki did not want to deal with them anymore. Their appeals reminded her of the Producer, which made her even more resentful. She took to getting up and running, telling her friends to come along, whenever a boy wanted to talk to her.

When asked for the reason she was avoiding the boys, she said that she needed to clear her head.

_April 29th, year 2_

Snacktime at 765Pro was little more than a break in the middle of the afternoon, whether prompted by the Producer, their own hunger or the need stop working before they went crazy. When one group figured or learned it was time, they would spread the word to the others and everyone would quickly break up to have something to eat. Sometimes it was like a spontanious explosion that left them all scattered.

Miki had only brought a little package of onigiri that didn't last very long, so she started wandering around. The production could get very quiet and empty when everyone was eating.

The door to Kotori's little corner was open, and Miki couldn't help but look inside. The monitor by the computer was displaying some kind of screen saver, which she watched for a few seconds before scanning around for something more interesting. A magazine lay open on the desk and she tilted her head at it. She couldn't see what was in it from where it was resting on the desk, so she picked it up and leafed through it.

The magazine contained images that made her face feel so hot she nearly dropped it. She closed it and held it to her chest, trying to get rid of the heat-tingle in her cheeks.

...Wait a minute, what was she so embarrassed about? It wasn't like anybody was naked or anything. With this in mind, she opened it up again...and had the exact same reaction.

"Is this what they mean by ecchi?" Miki said under her breath. Seeking relief, she turned the pages a few times. It was more of the same, so she clenched her eyes shut against them.

After a few seconds, she peeked again and realized that the heat-tingle was not a _bad_feeling, and was rather enjoyable when it wasn't unbearably intense. Some of the pictures were actually nice to look at as well, so she scanned the pages to find them, leaning against the desk as she did so. She was so engrossed in it she forgot everything else for a moment, and the sound of a knob turning only made her wonder faintly.

"Miki-chan! What...what are you doing with that?"

Miki lifted her eyes without raising her head to see a tense Kotori. She suddenly remembered that she was in someone else's place messing around with their stuff and that someone caught her doing so, but that realization did not scare or shock her.

"This?" she closed the magazine and turned it in her hand so the cover faced Kotori. "It was on your desk. It looked like you had been looking through it so Miki thought to do so too."

"You're not supposed -!" Kotori said in a small, tight voice.

"Are you interested in this kind of stuff, Kotori?"

Kotori's mouth squirmed for a split second and her face colored. "_Well_-"

"Miki isn't going to tell anybody," she tapped the magazine. "But Miki does want to know if you have more."

"...What?"

"Do you have any more?"

Kotori looked back and forth between some points on the floor, as if debating what to do next. Then she looked up, closed the door, and sat in her chair. She folded her hands on her lap and looked at Miki for a few seconds before speaking. "What section of that magazine are you referring to?"

This response confused Miki. "It has sections?"

"Two of them. You didn't notice the ones in the back?"

The idea of sections was an enticing one, so Miki turned from the back cover inwards...

But the pictures there were _much_ different than the other ones, so she made a noise and actually dropped it this time.

"So you didn't after all. Pfft..."

"Iyaa!" was all that Miki could manage.

Kotori stood up and patted her shoulder with a smile of barely restrained mirth. "It's alright, I prefer the ones in the first section as well. At least we have that in common, eh, Miki-chan?"

Miki put a hand on her chest. "Those ones were nicer. Miki...likes them more."

"It's a finer art form, isn't it?" Kotori held up a finger. "If you want to see more of that, I have some on hand."

"Here?"

"Well...it's a bit of a company secret. Very hush hush. You know." Kotori gestured vaugely. She put a hand to Miki's ear. "But we did have a special photoshoot with Azusa-san that never got released, even if it turned out rather well. I actually have a print of it that really shouldn't exist...if the president finds it, he might have it destroyed."

"Whoa, really?"

"The president wouldn't be able to find it if you take it home, perhaps?" Kotori straightened and put a finger to her cheek in mock innocence. "Did I suggest that?"

"Let Miki see!" Miki said in a voice hushed with excitement.

Kotori rooted in a desk drawer and pulled out what looked like a rolled-up poster. "Here! That which should not, and as far as everyone is concerned, does not exist." She handed it to Miki, who unrolled it carefully.

It was an alluring image - and practically a perfect shot as far as she was concerned. A sheet lazily covered Azusa, who had a sleepy expression that was both elegant and kind of cute.

She also had long hair. It was a little odd to see that after knowing her with short hair for so long.

"Mh, this must have been from a while ago," Miki remarked.

"Ah yes, it was shortly after you got your haircut, I believe," Kotori said while looking over Miki's shoulder at the poster. "I don't know all the details, unfortunately. But it might've been for the best that these didn't see the light of day..."

"Hm..." Miki tilted her head at it, then rolled it back up.

"I'm sure I don't need to say this, but don't let anyone see you with that," Kotori said out of the corner of her mouth. "Keep it in your locker until you get home, maybe. And remember that you said you wouldn't tell anyone about that magazine!"

"It's a secret. Very hush hush," Miki winked, flicking her hand into a pistol shape.

* * *

><p>Looking for the heat-tingle feeling became a quiet occupation for Miki afterwards. She couldn't devote too much time to it, since she learned that it could sometimes take a rather long while for her to want to do anything else but bask in it afterwards. Still, whenever she came home and had some spare time, perhaps, maybe she would look through the small stack of images she had collected and build up the warmth. Then she would lie on her bed and dream peacefully.<p>

This was not something that she told anyone about, if only because she couldn't explain why she felt that way. Afterwards she realized that she did not have many images of boys in her little stack, if any, because they didn't make any difference in how she felt. That realization made her seriously consider its significance.

Miki felt she knew her emotions fairly well, and was not afraid to think that she didn't like boys at all. The confusing part was where that left her. Well, it wasn't that she didn't like the fact that she only liked pictures of women - girls could be really cute sometimes! She knew she was cute, and she thought that some of her friends at 765pro were cute too...

The confusing part was not really her stance on things, perhaps, but rather the implication or how to act on it. It was rather simple enough to accept and live with, but _thinking_ about it left her bewildered and stressed. She decided that talking to someone about it would make her feel better, if only to have it out in the open for a little while. She had a pretty good idea of who to talk to, as well...

It so happened that she had a day off at the same time as that person did, so she had a meeting arranged.

_May 17th, year 2_

"You should wear your hair like that more often, Ritsuko. It looks nice."

Ritsuko was playing with the long braid she had put her hair up in. After a moment of looking at it, she shrugged and tossed it back. "It's an option. So where are we headed?"

"There's a little café over there. Their mochas are really good!"

Ritsuko arced an eyebrow but otherwise didn't comment. The two of them sat by the entrance, close to the windows. Ritsuko often looked at the people who walked by.

"So? What is it that's bothering you so much that you need to whisk me away from the office?"

Miki had a sip of her macchiato before speaking. "Do you have anyone you like, Ritsuko?"

Ritsuko smiled out the corner of her mouth, chuckling. "One of these things, huh? It's not something people like us can really think about. Can you imagine what something like that would do to an idol's career?"

"Sure, a relationship would do that, but what about just _liking_ someone? That's what Miki's asking."

Ritsuko had a mouthful of the sundae she had ordered. "Hm, maybe if I had the opportunity, there would be someone I'd consider..."

"Is that person a guy?"

Ritsuko stared at her for a moment before answering. "Of course, yes..."

Miki picked up the extra spoon on the table and picked at Ritsuko's sundae. "It's just, Miki doesn't understand the appeal of boys anymore...they're so immature, and they always want the same thing. It gets old."

Ritsuko looked at her as if she had said something absurd, like it was raining ducks or something. "Well, boys tend to be like that at this age."

"That doesn't make it less annoying! And they can totally be like that when they get older, too."

"They'll grow out of it. You can hardly expect them to understand what being in a relationship is like now..."

"Are you trying to change Miki's mind?"

"I'm saying, it's a little soon to be saying that -"

"Ritsuko! Miki just doesn't like boys, okay?"

There was a stunned silence after that exclaimation. Ritsuko shuffled her shoulders and took a large mouthful of ice cream to avoid Miki's glare.

"Miki is trying to tell you something here, and you're not - you're trying to make it...insignificant."

Ritsuko put her chin in her hand and looked aside.

"Why are you telling this to me of all people?" she said finally.

"Miki thought you would be supportive. Or say something helpful."

"Hm."

"And you're doing neither."

"Yes, I know," Ritsuko said between her teeth.

Miki sighed deeply. "Miki thinks that girls are cute and pretty much better than boys in every way, and was hoping that you'd say something smart to make it make sense."

Ritsuko rested her cheek on a fist. It was a while before she spoke. "Look. These are your feelings. What I say - or anyone says - shouldn't change them if they're honest. If you're really serious, then that's how things are. If you doubt them, then maybe you're wrong after all. This isn't something for someone else to decide."

Miki contemplated this, then smiled lightly. "See? Miki knew you could say something smart."

"You're welcome."

_May 28th, year 2_

Miki was supposed to have a check-in with the Producer later in the afternoon, so until then she had to keep her schedule open in case he finished whatever business he had before early. Check-ins were usually a casual affair, but waiting was stressing her out this time around. There were better things she could be doing with her time...

The stress made it unable for her to stay still, so she wandered around the office to stay away from others that might ask what was wrong. But that meant that she might wander too far, so she found a little empty room to sit and fume in.

Even with the door closed she could hear some of the bustling going on in the production. For a while she focused on it, then put her chin in her hands and closed her eyes.

Then there was a noise - some kind of wordless shriek that made Miki jump. It was followed by an erratic series of running footsteps, _getting louder_, and against all greater judgement she opened the door a crack to see what was going on.

The door was wrenched open from the other side so forcefully that the knob she was holding broke away from her fingers with a stinging sensation, and slammed so wildly that she had to recover from the noise of that before she noticed there was someone else in the room.

The person was trembling so much, curled so tightly, their hair so raggled and uneven that Miki had to realize who it was after knowing who it was. She walked around the person's back and knelt in front of them while trying not to make a sound. Even if she did the person didn't notice, so she leaned in slightly, tilting her head as she spoke:

"Ritsuko...san?"

Ritsuko lifted her head to glare over her glasses. There were signs of tears on her face, and though she was no longer shedding them she still shook and hiccuped. The act of lifting her head uncovered her arms, which were tightly crossed over her chest...

Wait, not her chest - her _shirt_, which was unbuttoned enough for Miki to see the outline of a bra underneath. She snapped her gaze back towards Ritsuko's face, trying to form words. "What..."

Ritsuko let out her breath in either a very dark sigh or a soft, toneless growl.

"Weren't...you supposed to be with the Producer..." Miki's eyes darted back and forth between the two in front of her, searching for an answer. "What ha-"

"Don't!" Ritsuko barked, voice full of venom, raising a hand as if to strike. Miki flinched.

"Don't - even mention..." the hand clenched with the exception of a single scolding finger. "I don't want...!"

But the wrathful energy was leaving her, and Ritsuko folded her arm across her face. For a sick, empty moment Miki felt like she was dangling in the air, then she carefully put her arms around the other in a gentle hug. Ritsuko made some sort of anguished, animal noise.

They must have stayed like that for the better part of an hour. Finally, Ritsuko pushed Miki back and straightened, wiping her glasses on her skirt.

"He did something to you."

Ritsuko glanced over at Miki with a tired look. "Something happened, yes. And I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable.

"But you have to tell someone! What he did...it's against the law!"

Ritsuko stared at her, then frowned. "At what cost? Do you have any idea what keeps this production afloat? That man does more for the company than you realize - getting rid of him would ruin everything."

Miki clenched her fists where they rested on her knees. "But that's not right!"

"Look! If this gets out he'll get punished, but it would be practically impossible to replace him. Not only because he does so much for so little, but the production itself would be tarnished. _Everyone_could lose their jobs!"

Miki was struck dumb.

"Besides," Ritsuko said dully, looking down at the floor, "I _let _it happen. At least, at first."

For a moment Miki forgot to breathe. Ritsuko buttoned up her shirt, put her glasses back on and stood up.

"Can you walk me to the station? I'm...going home."

"Okay..."

Miki lingered in the station after Ritsuko had left on her train. What had happened left her ill and tense and frustrated. Most of all, she was afraid that this could happen - or maybe already had - in some form or another to her other friends. It was far too easy to trust and like the Producer. After all...she herself had done so. It made her want to scream.

Instead, she walked back to the production without realizing where she was going. She remembered numbly that she had missed her check-in.

"Miki!" the Producer smiled, beckoning her to sit down with him. "Where were you? You left your cell in the lobby and none of us could get a hold of you."

He was acting like nothing had happened. Like maybe she had played some joke on them, gave them the slip, but it was okay. It made her mouth taste bad.

"Hey, what's the matter? You've been out most of the day. Did something come up?"

She wanted to smack him, yell at him, but she forced herself to remain calm. "...Sometimes girls have _problems_!" she said finally.

"Ah," he said knowingly, standing up. "Is it something you want to talk about? I'm all ears, you know."

Miki took a quick step back. He frowned wonderingly, then approached. She didn't back up again, but turned away.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong. I'll help you as much as I can. Miki?"

She swiped away the hand that was going for her shoulder. "I...don't need your sympathy."

The Producer blinked at her. "Wha?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Miki snapped, glaring at him. He made a move as if to approach again, but she broke away and bolted.


	8. The Wandering Mind: Destined

_June 5th, year 2_

Makoto had been in a unit with Azusa, and Chihaya had been in a unit with Azusa as well, so it only seemed natural that the three of them would band together eventually. The 'Lunatic Dreamers' quickly became a well-known and well-liked aspect of the 765pro lineup, and tended to hold more live concerts than other groups.

"Well, that's a wrap," the Producer stretched as he lead them outside. "Say, don't you three ever get tired? It hasn't even been ten minutes since you got off the stage and you all look ready for another one."

"Are you kidding? Being onstage gets my energy all going!" Makoto grinned.

"Now that I think about it..." Chihaya stopped walking for a brief moment. "I used to, but nowadays I leave a concert feeling rather refreshed, actually."

"I suppose getting used to it has something to do with it," the Producer chuckled. "And you, Azusa-san? How are you feeling?"

Azusa tipped her head and made a little wondering noise. "I suppose it's a little draining, but it's easy to get the lost energy back if I just relax. It's not something I really think about, honestly!"

"I propose we get our hands on some liquid refreshment to toast this successful live. How's that sound? Then you'll have the rest of the day to spend at the park however you like. "

The Lunatic Dreamers thought that it was a splendid idea and found a quiet little place to sit and watch the park-goers walk by.

"You know, I've been wondering," the Producer said after they had all gotten a drink. "Azusa-san, what got you thinking you should be an idol? You don't see very many people of your type in the business."

Makoto thought that was a pretty odd question to ask and was about to say so, but Azusa smiled and answered anyway. "Well, I've held other little jobs before this one, so it wasn't like I said to myself one day, 'I'm going to be an idol!' without considering other things..."

"Ah," said the Producer.

Azusa looked out to one of the roller coasters beyond before continuing. "...But mainly, I became an idol to meet my destined somebody."

"Is that right! You had your eyes set on a star?"

"Oh, no! I knew they were out there, but I didn't know who or where they were. I wanted my destined somebody to notice me, so I thought that by being an idol, they would find me one day."

Azusa paused and put her chin in one of her hands. "...And it worked, at least on my end."

"So you found your 'destined somebody', huh?" the Producer leaned on a railing, grinning. "What's he like?"

Azusa gazed out a little while longer before turning back towards the group with a helpless expression on her face. "You can't describe someone you're in love with! It's too embarrassing!"

"Hey, leave her alone already," Makoto said over her straw.

"Come on, just this last question. Inquiring minds want to know."

Azusa put a finger to her cheek and frowned slightly. "Hm...this person is certainly a rising star...possessed with an exceptional focus, though they can be a little shy or timid. And...eyes that have an inward gaze, I think."

Makoto nodded idly at this description. The Producer seemed puzzled.

"That doesn't say very much."

Azusa stuck out her tongue playfully. "Well, that is as good of a description as you're going to get!"

"Fine, fine, you win," the Producer laughed. "But I'll get the truth out of you one day!"

"I doubt it," Makoto grinned out of one side of her mouth. Azusa giggled softly.

"You've been very quiet, Chihaya-chan," Azusa tilted her head.

"So I have," Chihaya answered, swirling the straw in her cup some. "I had nothing to add, so I didn't say anything. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all..."

"In that case, shall we be off?"

The three idols had finished their drinks, so they split up to pursue whatever activity they wanted. For Makoto, that was going on every ride before she had to go home or take a break.

...Or at least, that was the idea, but having a drink before doing all that made it an impossible goal. She said farewell to Azusa, who was making arrangements to leave early, before hurrying along to an available restroom.

A little distance outside of the restroom's exit was a game booth. Normally, Makoto would pass by it without a second thought, but there was a familiar blunette being rather conspicuously awkward nearby, so she snuck around to see what was going on.

Apparently, something on the prize rack had caught Chihaya's attention and she was trying her best at whatever silly game the booth was offering in order to get it. After a few attempts, she walked away with a faintly sad expression, a small highlighter-blue plush puppy in her arms. Makoto looked at her for a moment before looking back at the booth, an idea creeping in her mind.

* * *

><p>"Chihaya! Are you heading out?"<p>

"Yes..." Chihaya turned back to face Makoto, her eyes falling on the large plush pooch Makoto was holding.

"Glad I caught you before you left then! Here, this is for you!" Makoto held out the toy.

Chihaya didn't speak for a few long seconds. "What...?"

"This is the one you were planning on getting, right? Only you didn't get a high enough score and you had to take a smaller one. Well, I went and won it! It's yours!"

Chihaya's expression changed and her brow creased slightly. "How...how did you..."

"Hehe, sorry for spying. But hey! Aren't you going to take it?" Makoto wiggled it a little bit.

Chihaya made a few noises that sounded like the beginnings of protests, then reached over and took the plush toy from her. "Thank you very much...ah, do you want this one?" she held out the smaller one.

"Nah, keep it! They look good together. See, they match!"

The bigger toy was a darker blue than the other, but they did look somewhat harmonious together. Makoto patted the head of the big one with a smile. "Grr! I, big dog-san, will protect little puppy-chan! Arf!"

Chihaya smiled as well, holding the plushies to her chest. Then she started to laugh. "Thank you, honestly. I...really must go now..."

"Hey, no problem! I could tell you really wanted it. See you tomorrow!"

Makoto waved at her friend until she disappeared in the line exiting the park. She decided to stay in the park a little while longer before doing the same, and turned around to find another ride.


	9. Parting

A few hours after Miki had dashed home, she got a text message from Ritsuko. It read "I'll be okay".

Ritsuko did not show up the next day. The others, naturally, were worried, but she showed up a day later and everyone pretty much assumed that she had caught a quick cold or something.

"You came back," Miki said.

Ritsuko pushed her glasses up her nose and crossed her arms. "I'm not going to very well let something like that stop me, you know?"

"Yeah..."

Ritsuko looked aside for a moment. "It's not going to happen again. I won't allow it. No more mistakes."

"No more mistakes," Miki repeated.

* * *

><p><em>June 26th, year 2<em>

It felt like it was going to be a slow day.

Miki would always arrive at the office early, so for a few minutes, there would only be her and maybe two or three others.

Yukiho had walked to the production with her. Ritsuko was busy working on some papers. The two Futamis were playing a game together on one of the couches. Iori was eating out of a little pudding cup she had brought on the opposite couch. The Producer was nowhere to be seen, having declared himself ill for the day. When that happened, the girls without something scheduled would usually repeat the lesson from the day before, if they bothered to show up at all.

Ritsuko put one of the pages she was writing on off to the side, and the familiar design on it caught Miki's attention. She leaned on the desk to have a look as Yukiho followed closely behind.

"Isn't...that one of Makoto-chan's stage outfits?" Yukiho asked behind her hands.

"Nnh, it's gotta be. I'd recognize Makoto-kun's skirt anywhere."

Ritsuko paused for a bit to orient the page towards the two. "I'm noting down the adjustments that need to be made. Eventually everyone needs to do this, but it's been getting rather problematic for Makoto."

This was true, Miki thought as she tilted her head at the paper, it seemed like she was getting taller these days. There were a lot of arrows, fractions, and notes about proportions on it, but it didn't seem cluttered. Typical Ritsuko.

At the top, there were two sets of three numbers. The first three, _73-56-76_, were familiar enough that Miki barely noticed them anymore.

"Wait a minute," she leaned closer, incredulously. "_Wait a minute_..."

"What's the matter?" Yukiho asked.

"That one! Look at that one!" Miki found a highlighter rolling on the desk and circled, underlined even, the first of the second set of numbers. "75! Makoto-kun is a 75 now? I never knew!"

"I measured her myself," Ritsuko said, continuing to write.

"Yukiho," Miki said in a grave tone as she turned to the other girl, "is this true?"

Yukiho clasped her hands close to her chest with her characteristic whine. "I...I don't know, Makoto-chan has never told me about that..."

Ritsuko raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Measured her myself..."

"I guess we'll have to get it straight from the source, then..." Miki rubbed her chin.

Just then the door opened and a particular black-haired idol stepped in. "Chihaya's coming, she's at the bathroom right now -"

"She comes!" Miki pointed. "Now's our chance!"

"Wha...?"

Miki dashed behind Makoto and locked her arms around the other girl's, shouting, "Yukiho! Quick!"

"Eh! Wuh-wuh-what should I do?"

"Miki, what the hell!"

"Hurry! Zip down that jacket and make sure! Get a good feel, okay?"

"What the - hey, stop!"

Yukiho's mouth squiggled for a brief moment, but she followed the command with impressive speed and dexterity. Makoto was wearing a thick shirt underneath, but that didn't protect her from investigating hands.

"Hey! I'm gonna seriously get angry...!"

"So what's the verdict?" Miki looked over Makoto's shoulder.

Yukiho was blushing hard and had a barely-restrained smile on her face. "Ah...ad...additional research is required..."

"But do they feel like 75s?"

"Yes...they're very soft..."

"They're real, okay? Cut it out, come on!"

The two twins looked over the couch and started scrambling over it. "Hey, are we molesting Makochin? Ami wants to join in too!"

"Mami four!"

"**Quit it!**" Makoto yowled, trying to throw the others off without success.

"You really need to wear more than that old zip jacket all the time!" Miki said over Makoto's struggling. "You're choking them with what you're wearing, I mean look at this! I don't even have to tou... oooh, they are soft."

Iori peered over the couch she was on and, after a moment of indecision as to what the proper expression to wear was, settled on a grin. "Now now, Makoto! A prince shouldn't struggle when surrounded by women!"

At that moment the door opened again, but this time it was the blue idol who entered. The little crowd froze as she looked up and noticed the scene. Chihaya opened her mouth, as if to say something, then closed it. Instead, she frowned lightly.

Miki had a brilliant idea right then.

"Emergency bra shopping trip!" she declared, hauling Makoto and all of the others clinging to her. "Chihaya, you're coming too!"

"What on earth -" Chihaya managed before she was grabbed and dragged away. "I don't _need_ -"

"Inquiring minds want to know if you've been treating your melons correctly," Ami grinned, contributing to the transportation effort.

"Besides, you are way overdue for a progress report, Chihaya-oneechan!" Mami pouted at the girl in question, walking a hand up her vest.

"Wha - I refuse!"

"Guys, seriously!"

"Deko-chan, get over here and help!"

"Why should I -!" Iori began, but was caught by Ami and dragged into the group. Despite the protests of the unwilling parties, they were no match for the combined strength of Miki and her eager volunteers.

Miki heard Ritsuko snort a bit in amusement before they left the room. "Be back by four o'clock!"

The 'emergency bra shopping trip' began as intended, then dissolved into general shopping when Miki got distracted by an incredibly cute pair of jeans. The lot of them ended up spending much more time than they were supposed to hunting for clothes (some more willing than others) and passing them around. Miki had a feeling that the Producer wouldn't be too happy if he knew what they spent their day doing instead of working, but she felt justified doing so since he didn't even show up. Besides, someone would have to tell him in order for him to know, and she had a feeling that nobody in the group was willing to get everybody punished. She was pretty confident that Ritsuko wouldn't give them away, either.

The next day the Producer showed up and seemed rather confused to see a couple of the idols running around with new outfits.

* * *

><p>Some time after summer started, Azusa announced that she was retiring as an idol. This was met with various forms of protest and distress, but she did not change her decision. A farewell concert was planned for mid-July. Miki didn't understand why Azusa would want to leave, and the only reason she could think of for a while was that she didn't want to renew her contract. It wasn't a very good reason.<p>

The whole thing bothered Miki, especially after the reasons she started coming up with started getting ridiculous. Azusa was a secret agent and her mission was beginning to be jeopardized by her career! A psycho had threatened to kill everyone at 765pro if she didn't step down! She had suddenly been seized with the passion and talent for cooking and was going to start her very own baking show!

Stupid predictions aside, time was running out to say goodbye while she was still a part of the production, so Miki found her in the breakroom sitting on the couch.

"Ah...hello, Miki-chan. Will you be having a seat?"

Miki sat before answering. "You look sad."

"Ah...ara ara," Azusa smiled sadly. "I finished talking with Chihaya-chan a little while ago. She's very upset over...my leaving, and we had a little fight, I suppose. But I'll be alright."

"Oh," Miki said, and let that hang for a while.

"Are you here to try to change my mind? It seems to be all people are doing lately," Azusa put a cheek in her hand, smiling sadly.

"No...I came to apologize."

Azusa's smile dropped in confused surprise. "Eh?"

"When you first came in with your haircut, I was jealous and...felt like I was getting replaced, and said some mean things...but I don't feel that way anymore and it was all really stupid anyway. So, I'm really sorry for upsetting you that day."

Azusa's smile flickered back, and she laughed lightly. "Oh, that...it's long since been forgiven and forgotten, Miki-chan. But thank you, regardless."

"Oh, good! I was afraid that you felt like I was out to get you or something, and that's why you were going away!"

"Pff...I'm fairly certain that you are one of the _least _threatening people here, Miki-chan."

"What!" Miki gave Azusa's shoulder a friendly shove. "Are you trying to provoke me?"

"No! Iyaaah, please spare me," Azusa curled up and covered herself with her arms, laughing while Miki tried to poke her stomach. After they settled down, Azusa tilted her head at Miki thoughtfully.

"...You've changed a lot," she said. "Everyone has changed," she added shortly afterward, as if realizing that for the first time. "I'm a little sad I won't be able to see that anymore. Not as well, at least."

"Hm," Miki nodded. "...Why is it that you're retiring, anyway?"

"Ah," Azusa said quietly, putting her head on her knees. "That's a secret."

"I'm good at keeping secrets. You can tell Miki...I mean, you can tell me."

Azusa closed her eyes in a silent laugh for a brief moment. "Not this one, I'm afraid. It's a secret I'll carry by myself."

"If you say so..."

Azusa let out her breath in a long sigh. "I miss everyone already. It's so bizarre."

Miki curled up like the other and shuffled closer, so they were two huddles of warmth. "We're all still here, you know. More importantly you're still here."

"I know, it's all very silly. I suppose I'm a little nervous about it all, but I'll get over it."

_July 26th, year 2_

It seemed like Azusa had just left when the agent arrived. She was a rather plain-looking woman, and Miki first saw her talking with Kotori.

"Who's she?" Miki asked Ritsuko, who was working on some papers in the same room.

"I heard something about a representative from another production coming to discuss something," Ritsuko shrugged. "Could it be her? I don't know."

"Yes, that's me!" the woman pointed at the two of them, overjoyed that she was recognized, apparently. Kotori seemed a little miffed to have their conversation interrupted. "I'm here from 403pro...it's very nice to meet you!" The agent walked over and shook their hands. Miki and Ritsuko exchanged confused glances. "I'm supposed to meet with your president, but I haven't the faintest idea where his office is!"

"Top floor, down the hall," Kotori said from behind her.

The agent thanked her exuberantly and dashed off.

"403pro?" Miki wondered aloud. "Isn't that the one with the net idol?"

"The very same," Ritsuko crossed her arms. "They're a big player in the business, but they've been taking on a lot of recruits lately - definitely risky behavior. Maybe she's here to discuss a partnership?"

Later the Producer was called up to the meeting, leaving the idols without anything to do. They gathered in the lobby and waited for news.

"Kinda quiet in here," Makoto remarked at the silence.

"Shh!" Iori hissed, and then everyone was silent again. The situation seemed to call for it.

Finally, the door opened and the Producer entered, followed closely by the agent. Almost instantly the room was filled with questions and requests for information.

"Easy now," the Producer put his hands up. "Really, at this point I only need to address one person. ...Haruka, will you come with us?"

All eyes were suddenly on her, and she laughed uneasily. "Is it private? I think everyone would like to hear what it is..."

The Producer considered this with an uneasy expression on his face. The agent next to him said something only they could hear, and he cleared his throat.

"Well, it's like this: 403pro would like to purchase your contract."

He paused as if waiting for the gathered idols to explode with noise, but there was nothing. Haruka wrung her hands, nibbling on her lip a little.

"But...leave everyone here? That would be...I don't...what do you suggest, Producer-san?" she said finally.

Now all eyes were on him. Miki could feel the hair on the back of her neck bristle.

He shifted his weight to his other leg. "Do you remember when I told you that you should take opportunities to grow as a star? Well, here's one right now."

Haruka looked like she was about to cry. The agent leaned closer and said, "The decision is ultimately yours, but should you accept, things are in order for you to be transferred. Please contact us when you've made your choice, Amami-san."

The two adults left, and most of the gathering crowded around Haruka to offer their support and advice. Miki decided not to join them - she felt a little ill all of a sudden - and slinked out. Chihaya was already out in the hall, and the two of them looked at each other for a moment before finding something else to do.

765pro was filled with a serious atmosphere for a few days until Haruka decided that yes, she was going - it would help everyone involved, she reasoned, and she promised to keep in touch. There was a buzz of activity with the planning of another farewell concert. Miki was really rather tired of it all.

"A necessary loss," the President sighed. "But, life goes on."


	10. Moment of Eye Contact: Fragments

Chihaya was not someone to put her faith in anyone lightly. She was no fool - trust was something that had to be earned and given, and she treated it that way.

Working with other idols at 765pro naturally lead to some surface friendships, with little emotional investment on her part. As time went on, she found a couple to respect, and that seemed to be as far as her relationships with them would go.

Some of them thought differently. Haruka, for instance, was always open and friendly towards her, even if she didn't ask for her company. At first Chihaya didn't know what to make of that, but gradually found that Haruka was not a bad person. So she trusted her.

The Producer was someone that she _had_ to trust, due to the nature of the occupation. Handing someone her future, her _self_almost, was no easy feat, but he handled her training graciously and effectively. So she relaxed around him. He seemed to understand that she wanted something great, and said he would help her when she told him about her desire to be the 'perfect voice'.

She did not, however, tell him _why_ she wanted to do so, though she began to feel that she should.

Chihaya told two other people about her conviction - Haruka, because she found that getting her support was a good thing, and Azusa.

Azusa was a bit of an unexpected addition in her life. At first she didn't know what to make of a person who could sing in such a delicate way and was so...absent-minded. Azusa seemed to float from place to place instead of being grounded like a regular person. So Chihaya observed her from a polite distance and decided that, at the very least, she admired Azusa's talents, and lowered her guard for a moment.

In that moment Azusa placed herself as a direct presence in her life. It seemed like one day the two of them had nothing to do with each other, and the next Azusa was fussing over Chihaya as if they had known each other for years. At the time, Chihaya didn't know why Azusa decided to do so, and this concerned her somewhat, but that faded away. It was much easier to learn from Azusa by being in close contact with her, and, in the end, she _wanted_ to be friends with her.

So, for a time, Chihaya believed things were going to turn out alright. That ended up being a mistake. Maybe she was a fool after all.

It was foolish to think that promises made in the moment by the Producer had any truth behind them; after all, they were only words, and like all words they had the potential to be lies. She would not have been so hurt by it if...Haruka...wasn't involved.

Haruka? In the Idol Ultimate? It was almost impossible to fathom - Chihaya _knew_ who else was competing, and she considered most of them to be a match or challenge for even her level, so sending in Haruka was like throwing a lamb into the lion's pit. Because...well, Haruka had good qualities, but they didn't have to do with her being a good idol. Mostly.

The days went on and it became rather clear that no, it was not a joke, and that was when the hate began to rise. Logically, it didn't make any sense for there to be a connection between the fact the Producer chose Haruka and the fact that they both knew that she was counting on getting the title of 'top idol'. But in her anger she felt it was there. She couldn't help but notice that those two had been getting rather comfortable with each other even long before the Idol Ultimate, though she hadn't seen what it could mean or thought it was significant.

So perhaps it was only that the Producer wanted to show off the girl he seemed to be doting on, as he seemed to imply when she asked, but...she couldn't help it, it felt like something more wretched. As if he was using the person she dared to call one of her first close friends specifically to wound her. And that close friend let it happen because either the Producer or personal gain was more important than some girl's dream to become a voice that reached out to people.

Chihaya's mood kept jumping from despair to rage to self-loathing for either of those feelings. She tried to keep her distance from the others, knowing her mood was delicate, but they approached anyway with the expected offers of aid and inquiries on what was wrong. She did her best to dismiss them civilly.

And so she made herself alone, even if some wounded part of her wanted to reach out for support. She knew that doing so would mean admitting she was gravely hurt, and if she did that she didn't know what would happen.

It was as if one day she had isolated herself for good, and then Azusa placed herself next to her. She did not ask any questions or speak at all really. She just showed up, as if she sensed that Chihaya needed some company even though it was too painful to ask for it.

For some days, the two of them were together as often as possible and hardly spoke a word to each other. With 765pro focused on preparing for the IU, they were largely ignored. Who would pay any mind to a little phantom being lead around by a person whose hold on reality seemed only a little more solid?

Azusa paitently stayed beside her until she recovered, and Chihaya tried to ignore the strange pulls and twitches of her heart.

_April 2nd, year 2_

By some fortunate circumstance, Azusa and Chihaya had the same day off, which Azusa had insisted they spend together. Chihaya didn't mind.

"I know just where we're going to go," Azusa said, taking Chihaya's hand and walking briskly. "It's right by the shopping center, and the view is lovely! I hope the food is good, though, I haven't tried it yet."

Of course, since it was Azusa was leading the way, it took them a considerable amount of time and navigating to actually get to their intended destination. It was some kind of cafe chain that Chihaya had heard about in passing but never thought about visiting. Still, there was a first time for everything.

"Well? What do you want, Chihaya-chan?" Azusa tilted her head at her.

To be honest, most of the menu was dedicated to sugar-laden beverages that didn't look all that appealing. "...I'll just have some plain frozen yogurt."

"Well, in that case," Azusa turned back to the menu. "I think I'll take a caramel custard with my mocha."

The two of them were able to get their order and a table by a window shortly afterwards. Both ate in a comfortable silence for a while.

Azusa wiggled in delight after trying her dessert. "Chihaya-chan, you must try this," she said, handing her spoon over the table.

Chihaya took it after a second's hesitation - she didn't particularly want to try the sweet, but if Azusa-san wanted her to, then...well, she couldn't exactly refuse, could she?

It was smooth but very thick.

"How is it?"

"I can see why you would want to drink something with this," Chihaya said, removing the spoon from her mouth. It was then that she realized that she was holding the spoon that Azusa was using, which meant...that...

Well, it didn't actually mean anything beyond the fact that they both used the same spoon. Still, it made Chihaya's insides warm.

Azusa took the spoon back with a smile. "Well, I suppose that's as good of an answer as I can get out of you."

There was another quiet period while the two of them returned to their respective snacks. A thought crept into Chihaya's mind. "Do you want to try this?" she asked, pointing to her yogurt.

"I would love to!"

"Here," Chihaya scooped a spoonful and held it out. Azusa looked at it for a moment, then leaned foward and closed her mouth over it. She chuckled as she held there for a few seconds.

"It's cold!" Azusa said behind a hand after she had settled back in her seat.

"It is frozen," Chihaya sighed. Then she turned her face into her bowl so Azusa couldn't see the undoubtably absurd expression on her face.

_July 3rd, year 2_

Chihaya was at home studying when she got a text message from Makoto. "Go to the 765pro homepage right now. There's something you need to read."

She didn't go to the website that often, but if Makoto found something so important that she had to message her about it, then she would have a look.

On the front page, after the usual headers, there was what seemed to be an announcement of some kind.

_Hello everyone! This is Miura Azusa. I'm writing this to tell you that I've decided to retire as an idol._

_I've thought about it for a long time, and part of me doesn't want to, but in the end, this is something I've been putting off longer than I should have._

_I know many of you will read this, or hear about it on the radio, and be very sad. Please know that this decision had nothing to do with you...the reasons behind it are complicated, and I hope you understand that I would rather not discuss them._

_To those of you who read this, I know you'll be worried about me, but I'll be fine! And please, don't despair. You'll still be able to hear my voice. I'm trying to get accepted by a seiyuu group at the moment, and a seiyuu isn't that much different than an idol, right? Fu fu._

_Tomorrow will have another morning, so keep your chin up and go towards it confidently!_

Underneath this message was an image of Azusa's signature.

Chihaya stared at it, as if trying to read it again, but she couldn't get the lines to register in her mind. She got up, turned off the computer, and went back to her room. She sat on her bed for a moment before laying down on it, curling up as she felt her chest tighten.

Hugging a pillow to her chest, she replied to Makoto's message with a quick "I saw it". Then she laid her face on the pillow and found that it was a tiny bit wet.

_July 12th, year 2_

For a few days Chihaya did not take the opportunity to talk to Azusa. She watched as 765pro gathered around her to help prepare for her farewell concert, wish her luck, or say goodbye. Chihaya did not approach because she could not wrap her head around the fact she was leaving.

Still, she found herself in a room with Azusa eventually, and she was not strong enough not to say anything.

"Are you really going?"

Azusa smiled, then nodded. "Yes!"

It was so sure and so simple an answer that Chihaya paused. "No one...wants you to leave."

"I am aware of that," Azusa closed her eyes. "But I've decided, and I'm going through with it." She turned away towards the window.

Something in the center of Chihaya's chest clenched. "But you _can't_ go -"

She stopped herself by swallowing.

Azusa began to draw on the fog covering the window. "I can, and I am," she said evenly.

Chihaya tried to stay composed, but she could feel some parts of her tremble slightly. "Your special someone," she blurted out. "You said you became an idol to see them! Are you - are you giving up?"

Azusa froze, leaving her finger in the middle of marking a pattern. Chihaya immediately regretted opening her mouth.

"What a cruel thing for you to say," Azusa said softly.

Seeing Azusa so hurt pained Chihaya as well, and that she was leaving still stung, but at the same time, if Azusa no longer sought out that 'someone'...perhaps...

Perhaps she would have a chance, though the selfishness of that thought made her a little ill.

"Well?" she said in a small voice.

Azusa resumed her drawing, but could only make meaningless, frustrated strokes before she turned around again. "I would have thought that you would know better than to ask something like that."

Chihaya wanted to answer something among the lines of "I would have thought that you would know better than to desert me," but that was too mean, and too revealing of an answer. "You would be," she said instead.

"Perhaps I am," Azusa said, seating herself on a little couch, "giving up on my destined someone. That is not something I want to do! But..." she paused, with a thoughtful expression, "I hardly even know if they return my feelings. Maybe they don't feel the same way as I do at all."

She paused again, then laughed sadly. "In that case, though, they can hardly be called my 'destined somebody', right...?"

Chihaya hardly knew what to say or feel for a moment. She took a step towards the couch.

For a moment neither of them spoke, then Chihaya ventured gently, "That isn't the reason you _are _leaving, is it?"

Azusa hesitated, then, closing her eyes, shook her head.

"Could you tell me what it is, then?" Chihaya asked softly. "I read your post," she added quickly, "but..."

Azusa half-opened her eyes in contemplation, looking down at the floor. After a few even breaths, she said, "I...do not feel _safe _here, Chihaya-chan."

Such an answer, which only brought up more questions, clenched Chihaya's chest, but Azusa's expression prevented her from inquiring further.

"Ah...in that case..." Chihaya had no idea what to say to that, honestly. She turned towards the door. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll leave you alone..."

"Alright, Chihaya-chan."

Chihaya left the room, walking out into the hall for a while before realizing her eyes stung. After touching a hand to them, she saw a tear on her finger. She stared at it for a little while before taking a deep breath, steeling herself, and wiping it away.


	11. Frail

**_Trigger warning: attempted suicide  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em>August 12th, year 2<em>

The Producer became increasingly distracted and troubled as the days went on. It got to the point that began stressing out the idols as well. Anticipating something bad was going to happen, Miki avoided him more than she usually did. This was not very hard to do, since he seldom worked with more than one of the idols at a time a day lately. Most of the management left to do was picked up by Ritsuko, whom Miki found to be more than capable.

A couple of them were unwinding in the breakroom after a workout. Shortly afterwards, a few walked in from a singing practice with some snacks, and the lot of them ate together.

"You know, Mami-tachi haven't seen Nii-chan all day," Mami said around a cookie. "It's getting really boring around here!"

"It's a little unusual not to hear anything from him so late in the day, isn't it," Ritsuko remarked, sipping some tea.

Not like it would make much difference if he did drop by, Miki thought. Instead of voicing this opinion, she shrugged and reached for another cookie.

"Hold off on those, we should leave some for Iori -"

As if evoked, Iori barged into the room, panting and angry, with Yayoi standing meekly behind her. The noise the door made was so loud that the silence that followed seemed even more empty.

"That man," Iori said with a faint growl, "is leaving us!"

Ami titled her head for a few seconds before speaking. "What man?"

"Who else! The Producer, you idiot!"

Miki had only enough time to swallow before something crashed behind her and made her turn towards the noise. Yukiho was standing with her hands close to her chest, and a cup lay broken on the floor.

"But - but that can't be possible..." Yukiho said in a small voice.

"You doubt me? He said it right to the President's face that he was quitting! We were there! We saw it!"

Yayoi lowered her head. "...It's true."

Yukiho's expression slowly crumbled, and she wailed, clinging to the sides of her head. "But he can't - he said that - _promised_-"

Makoto stood to put her hand on her friend's shoulders. "Yukiho! Hey, it'll be okay..."

"He promised! It was a promise! He can't go, it's not possible..."

Chihaya got up, shouting, "Get a hold of yourself!"

Yukiho hiccuped and fell silent.

Miki blinked, shaking her head briefly. Then she turned towards Iori. "Did he say where he was going?"

"...No. I didn't get that," Iori brushed some hair back with her arm.

Miki had a pretty good idea where he would end up, though she didn't say it. Ritsuko announced that she was going to confirm this with the President and left the room.

The room was uncomfortably quiet for a long period of time. Then Ami and Mami held out the plate of cookies to Iori and Yayoi, even though nobody was hungry anymore.

_August 30, year 2_

With the Producer and Haruka gone, activity at 765 Pro almost immediately slowed to a crawl. Without someone to officially monitor their activities, the schedule for the idols was cut open. Everyone tried to stay positive, but they knew that the production, and their careers, were in a bad position.

Miki was not at all happy with being inactive, and declared that the office really needed some tidying up and the idols could really help in doing so, whenever they stopped by. At first everyone was unsure about the idea, but after getting support from both the President and Kotori they began to go along with it. It became a sort of game between the idols, out of lack of other things to do. Surprisingly, the two Futamis were quite skilled at getting a floor sparkling, as long as they had someone to compete against. Yukiho was quite diligent in her mopping and cleaning, and Yayoi was an old hand at custodial work.

Miki was helping Ritsuko organize and shred papers in the front lobby when Yukiho came into the building. She offered her usual soft greeting and passed into the rooms beyond, ghostlike. Ritsuko had looked up when she had come in and made a wondering noise. "Hm."

"What's up?" Miki asked, feeding a few pages into the shredder.

"Since when did Yukiho need to bring a backpack here?" Ritsuko rested her cheek on a fist.

Whatever the reason was, it didn't seem important enough to warrant further attention because Ritsuko had returned to organizing the stack in front of her. So Miki continued what she was doing.

The afternoon passed slowly, with only the sounds of the shredder and some talk in the hall giving any indication that the building was occupied. Miki began to hum a few bars of some song she had heard on the radio.

There was a raucous shrieking noise, sudden and quick, that made them look up and then at each other.

"What was that?" Miki said after a moment.

It was unlike anything she had ever heard, and it had most certainly come from inside the building. It must have been a bit far from where they were, but it was still a clear sound. After a tense pause, Ritsuko got up. Miki realized that it must have been a cry for help - it sounded like a name - and got up as well.

"It came from one of the corner offices."

"Okay," Miki said, since there wasn't anything else to say.

It took some navigating, but they reached one of the offices that had its door cracked open. Ami and Mami were sitting on the floor nearby, hands to their faces.

"What's going on?" Ritsuko knelt by them. Mami peered from between her fingers, trying to get her breath straightened out so she could speak. She couldn't, and all that came out was a choked sob. "Did someone get hurt? Did the noise scare you?"

Miki stepped over the others, pushing the door open a little more. It was darker in that room, lit only by natural light from a shuttered window. That was odd, since the lights were always on indoors unless it was very bright out, and it was slightly cloudy today...

The lamp that was usually hanging in the middle of the room had been torn off from its post and lay broken on the floor. Beside it was Makoto, who holding a frail white figure in her lap. There was a rope trailing from the head of the lamp...

"Ritsuko-san," Miki whispered, unable to raise her voice. "...Call an ambulance."

"Huh?" Ritsuko looked into the room, and immediately got up to her feet. "What just happened!"

Makoto clung tighter to Yukiho, who was very still. "Shut up," she growled.

"Is she..." Miki couldn't continue. She approached slowly, sitting by them.

"Not dead," Makoto said in a dark voice. "Almost. Stopped her."

Ritsuko had run off, presumably to call for help. Miki placed a hand on Yukiho's forehead. Never had she seemed so small and cold...

From this close, Miki could tell that Makoto was panting. "If we came a minute later, there would be...wouldn't...can you imagine?"

Miki's throat was too tight to speak, but she knew she couldn't have given a proper answer if she could. The only sound for a long, long time was the faint sobs of the twins outside.


	12. Thank You For the Memories: Revive

**_Trigger warning: attempted suicide_**

* * *

><p>After the Producer left, Yukiho spent much of her time lingering around windows to see if he would change his mind and come back, or at the very least come to see her. At first she had enough force of will to make herself calm, but that didn't last. She couldn't keep herself from pacing, or fretting over her hands, or chewing her nails until she bit into the quicks.<p>

After a while it was impossible to deny. The Producer was not coming back.

Heaviness crept into her body and lingered. It weighed down her feet so she could barely move, it weighed down her gaze so she couldn't see where she was going, and it weighed down her heart so much she felt like lying down and never getting up again.

_August 19th, year 2_

It was breaktime at 765pro, but the two Futami twins were nowhere to be found.

"They're probably fooling around already, but would you tell them we're taking a break? They might want something to eat," Ritsuko said.

This task was sufficiently mindless for Yukiho to accept through her numbness. Doing a sweep of the building would not disturb her thoughts.

She hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, but it was definitely a few floors off the ground she found the open door. Ami and Mami were in the room, looking down the window. When Yukiho entered, Mami looked over her shoulder.

"Yukipyon, come over here," Mami said, jumping on her tiptoes and looking back down again. Yukiho joined them.

They were not so far up as to be unable to see what was on the ground. There, very still and lying on its back, was a little bird.

"Ami-tachi found it just now. It looks hurt..."

Yukiho knew it was much worse than hurt, but couldn't bring herself to mention or believe that. "Maybe it will move if we wait."

So they waited. Occasionally one of the twins fidgeted.

They must have been there for a while, because Kotori came by with a faintly amused smile. "Now then, Ami-chan, Mami-chan, if you're holding Yukiho-chan hostage, you're not going to get any Calpis!"

"Piyo-chan! Look at this!" Ami shouted, not bothering to turn around.

Seeing the three of them looking out the window must have convinced Kotori to sidle up behind them and figure out whatever was the matter. "Ah...poor thing. It must've hit the window. I'll go get a box for it. Why don't you all come down for a snack?"

The three of them could hardly do anything else. The sight of food and the others quieted them a fair bit. Kotori passed by a little while later holding a shoebox.

"Is the bird in there?" Ami asked.

"Can we touch it?" Mami added in a smaller voice.

Kotori kept her hand on top of the box. "It might be dirty. It would be better if you didn't."

Ami came very close to the box, trying to look into the cracks. "So what are you going to do with it?"

"There's not much to do, I'm afraid. I'll put it in the trash."

"No! Don't!"

"It shouldn't go in the trash," Mami said behind her hands. "That would be too sad!"

Yukiho put down her glass of juice, since she wasn't drinking it anyway. "I'll be able to bury it, if you'd let me..."

Ami and Mami were visibly cheered by this. "Yeah, let Yukipyon take care of it!"

"She has a huuuuge yard! It'll be perfect!"

Kotori had a helpless expression for a second, then set the box down on a desk. "If you're going to do it, you can take the box with you when you go home."

It didn't make very much sense to pretend to be busy around the office while carrying the box, so she agreed. She whittled the day away until it was time for everyone to leave, then picked up the shoebox and boarded the train home.

The box felt light enough for her to doubt there was anything inside at all. Still, when she got home, she dug a little hole before lifting the lid off the box to look inside.

The bird was indeed within. It was belly-down, wings outstretched with its head to the side, as if it was draping the bottom of the box. Its eyes were closed.

Yukiho stared at it for a long moment before she pinched her eyes shut and put her hands to her face to prevent herself from crying. She felt wetness on her palms, but did not make a sound. Finally she patted down her dress and scooped the little bird in her hands.

"The earth will be warmer and more peaceful...you'll be able to rest there."

She put the bird in the little hole, covered it gently, went to her room and stared at her hands. Then she stared at the ceiling, and after that out the window.

Heaviness set itself deep in her body and drained her of will or want.

_August 30, year 2_

Yukiho knew she didn't want it to end at home - the effect on her mother and father would be too ghastly. It would be better for them to hear she was gone before they saw it.

School was too loud and too busy, with too many people. While she didn't want to trouble the others at the office, it was the best place she could think of. Everything would be over without any fuss, and things would take care of themselves from there.

She ducked into a little room without passing by many others, pulled the door closed and pushed a chair to the middle of the room. While she was tying the cord to the lamp, she looked out the window and noticed that this was same room that she and the Futami twins had found the bird.

She looked down the window. There was nothing there. ...The window would not open enough for her to jump out of it. When she thought of that, she felt bad, for choosing that end seemed like belittling the bird who died in the same place. So she went back to the chair and busied herself with the cord.

Yukiho stood with the cord looped around her neck and looked down at the chair she was standing on. For a minute or two, that was all she was capable of. Then she kicked it away.

The world faded, and she let it do so. Still, some word rose to the surface of her mind just before everything dimmed completely.

_Wait..._

* * *

><p>She woke up in the hospital.<p>

It really felt like she was sleeping - the way her body felt heavy and unresponsive was so much like being groggy that she believed for a moment that she had just fallen asleep.

Still, she knew about and remembered the cord, and how it felt around her neck. She had done...

Actually, now that she thought about that or about anything, she had not actually done what she had set out to do. She was, she was sure, alive - though she wasn't sure how that happened. Or if that feeling inside her chest was relief or disappointment.

Yukiho pulled up an arm to cover her eyes and tried to roll over onto her side. When she did that she heard a kind of strangled noise that made her freeze.

She tried to turn again, towards the noise, and then something was on top of her, holding her close. She blinked to clear her vision and recognized the black hair.

"Makoto-chan," she whispered.

Makoto did not move for a little while. Then she sat up. She was biting her lips together and trembling, as if she was trying hard not to cry. Or, Yukiho realized, like she was trying hard to control herself.

"Please," Makoto said suddenly, with a kind of sharpness. She didn't say anything else for a few seconds, lowering her head a tiny bit. "Please...don't do that again."

Yukiho stared at her for a long time.

"You won't, right?"

"Don't know," Yukiho slowly moved her head from side to side.

Makoto looked actually wounded by this.

"If you're hurting, tell someone, okay? I want to help you...lots of people want to help you."

Yukiho closed her eyes for a few seconds.

"Is there anything I can do now?" Makoto asked.

"Stay," said Yukiho.

"Okay. I'll do that."

Makoto pushed her chair a little closer and smiled sadly. Yukiho felt a little lighter when she saw that.

* * *

><p>Yukiho spent the next few days not doing much of anything. She barely moved or thought. She was mostly preoccupied with <em>being<em>.

Ritsuko told her that 765pro was going to try to keep the attempt under wraps, to prevent a difficult re-entry and unwanted media attention. What Yukiho was able or cared to understand was that beyond a small circle of people, no one would know what she had tried to do.

This was fine with her. She didn't really want to think about or remember it.

Makoto came by on occasion to keep her company and tell her about goings on: 765pro was planning a live with every one of the remaining and available idols, which was to take place in late October. Sometimes, though, she would show up only to spend the entire time resting close by. Yukiho was fine with that as well. Makoto seemed to be tired or stressed much of the time, so if she was relaxing then that was a good thing.

_September 9th, year 2_

Instead of Makoto, Miki came by to visit. She seemed rather lively. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Yukiho didn't know what to say. She unclasped her hands briefly in a motion that was tamer than shrugging.

Miki sat and put her hands on her lap. For a while she didn't speak. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead..."

"Why did you want to do that to yourself?"

Yukiho did not have to be told what was meant by "that". She flinched when she heard this and moved to cover herself with the bedsheet.

"You wouldn't have done that for nothing, I know it. There had to be a reason."

Yukiho didn't answer. Miki tilted her head at her for a second or two, then said, "If I say something that sounds close, will you tell me?"

That was not nearly as daunting as actually saying anything herself, and Miki looked much too determined to back down, so Yukiho nodded.

"It's not about anything that has to do with your career specifically..."

Yukiho pondered this and parted her hands again in the demi-shrug, but nodded as well.

"But the problem is, or _was_, a part of the production," Miki said, leaning in a little.

Yukiho became very still and swallowed.

Miki studied this reaction for a little bit and lowered her voice. "It's something the Producer said, isn't it. You said he promised you something."

With difficulty, Yukiho managed to say "Yes".

Miki sat back. Then she said, "...He made promises to a lot of us, actually."

Yukiho stared at her.

"He...well, maybe not promises, but he said a lot of things...to me, to Chihaya, to Ritsuko, and I'm sure he would have tried to get some of the others, too..."

"He said things to you?" Yukiho asked slowly, leaning her head to one side.

Miki dropped her gaze for a crucial, honest moment. "He made me believe I meant something to him, but I found out pretty quick that wasn't true. That was...hard."

"I'm sorry," Yukiho said out of instinct.

"I didn't tell you that to make you feel sorry for me," Miki said, putting a hand on top of Yukiho's clasped ones. "I did it so you'd know that we're hurt because of him, too. But it'd hurt more to lose you. It hurts now."

Yukiho looked down at their hands. "...Makoto said something like that, too."

"Did she?"

"Not exactly. But it feels kind of the same."

Miki nodded and offered a little smile. Then she asked, "Are you going to watch the big fall live?"

"Yeah," Yukiho said quietly. "Will try. Because I can't make it..."

"Good! Pay attention, especially near the end before we wrap everything up."

"Before the last song?"

"Yup! There'll be a big announcement. You'll know," Miki said, flicking her hand away into a pistol shape.

"Okay then," Yukiho nodded, bowing a tiny bit.

_September 19th, year 2_

Yukiho was taken home after a few days in the hospital. It felt even more lonely than the place she had left. She was used to being avoided by the men who worked for her father, but even her parents didn't seem to want to disturb her.

The solitude almost felt imposed. It made her sad in a faint way.

Her mind was clear enough at times to actually think about things. So the Producer had said...things to some of the others? Miki had said so, and what she had said was certainly not a lie.

Besides, those cruel gestures seemed perfectly in character along with what he did to her. The same man who left her without warning could have easily broken the hearts of her friends at the production.

She had been the only one out of them who had tried to hurt herself so completely, though. When she realized that, she sank a little deeper in quiet despair. She didn't have the willpower that Miki, Chihaya, or Ritsuko did...they were able to move on.

These thoughts made Yukiho feel even more alone, which she did not like. She asked her parents if it was alright to invite a friend over for the night, which they accepted and allowed.

When Makoto arrived, she seemed a little intimidated by the huge Hagiwara house and lingered in the entrance after introducing herself. Yukiho had to come get her and show her around.

"You doing better?" Makoto asked with a smile.

"Maybe. I can't say," Yukiho answered.

Makoto's smile dropped a bit and she nodded a few times.

They spent the evening having Makoto talk about things, as she had done back at the hospital. Yukiho asked about the fall live, but Makoto had suddenly become reluctant to say anything new on the subject. Instead, she sang a bit of one of the songs she was going to perform, which lifted Yukiho's spirits a little. Then the two of them set up an extra futon in Yukiho's room and settled down for sleep.

Having another presence in the room made the dark and stillness less desolate. Yukiho sighed with a tiny smile and stared out at a wall for many long moments, waiting for sleep, but something about having someone else around made it more difficult to settle down. So instead she searched for Makoto's shirt with a hand and felt the other stir.

"Yukiho? What's wrong?"

"No, nothing," Yukiho murmured. "...I was thinking."

"Okay," Makoto shifted to a more comfortable position. Yukiho felt her untense. "What were you thinking about?"

Yukiho didn't say anything for a moment.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

"Have you ever wondered sometimes, what your friends' bodies are like?" Yukiho managed to catch Makoto's shirt in her fingers, finally.

"Wha..." Makoto began, but found nothing to follow it up with.

"...That was a weird thing to say," Yukiho chuckled faintly.

"I can't say I have," Makoto said after a moment.

"I do," Yukiho said softly. She could feel Makoto very tense again, and she wanted to tell her that there was nothing to worry about. "We're all different, you know...sometimes I wonder how. Sometimes."

She heard Makoto swallow. "Okay." At that, Makoto shifted her pillow so that they were looking at each other.

"Can I see your stomach?" Yukiho asked.

"Can you what -" Makoto said quickly, incredulously, and then realizing the question, laughed. "You want to see my stomach?"

Yukiho said nothing, but Makoto sat up and lifted her shirt out of the way. Yukiho sat up to touch it. Makoto twitched under her fingers, but relaxed.

"Can you see?"

"Yes," Yukiho felt around slowly. Hearing her friend breathe, and to some extent, feeling that she was, was very calming.

"It's very firm," she said. "There's muscle here."

"Yeah," Makoto said with a little bit of pride.

Yukiho smoothed her palm over that area. "Makoto-chan is strong."

"Yukiho is strong too," Makoto said, quietly.

"Not true," Yukiho said, looking at up at Makoto's face. There was just enough light to be able to tell that her expression was earnest.

Makoto let go of her shirt and held on to Yukiho's hand. "You decided to live," she said, squeezing the hand a little. Then she moved to give her a hug. "Strong."

"...Okay..."

The two of them stayed like that for a little while longer, then went back to laying down their respective futons.

Yukiho's thoughts kept returning to the words _you decided to live_ as she finally felt her eyes and limbs get heavy with incoming sleep. It was a pleasant sound in her mind.

_October 29th, year 2_

Yukiho sat in front of her television and tuned into the live broadcast of the 765pro concert. The crowd did not look that large, but their cheers were loud and healthy despite that. She clapped along with their applause instead of using her voice.

Every one of the idols was in top form - performing their best and favorite songs by themselves or in units. The energy of the concert was beginning to make her shake pleasantly.

Makoto, Miki, and Chihaya finished their song to a great amount of cheering. The other idols began to make their way onstage.

Chihaya and Miki put their microphones away, leaving Makoto at the center of the stage. "We're about to kick off our last song! I hope everyone's having a great time tonight!" she called out. There was another cheer.

She paused and her smile drooped visibly. "We here at 765pro wanted to come out as a big group to come see you all, but...as you can tell, one of us...couldn't make it..."

There was silence. Yukiho leaned towards the television slowly.

"I know there's a lot of you out there that're disappointed that you weren't able to see her tonight. But you see, it's..." Makoto paused, blinked a few times and swallowed. She put an arm to her eyes, then lowered it, and when she spoke again her voice was a little hoarse. "Something happened, and she's hurting a lot right now..." There was a rising noise from the crowd, which quieted down after a lot of calming motions from the gathered idols.

"I know!" Makoto said, not without a bit of strain. "I know that it's hard to hear. I know that there are fans out there that left when they realized she wouldn't be coming. But if you really care! If you really care," she lowered her microphone for a few seconds as she stared out into the crowd, almost defiantly. Miki stepped forward and put her hand on Makoto's shoulder. Makoto jumped a little as if she didn't expect that. Then Yayoi, then Chihaya, Ritsuko and Iori, Ami and Mami - every single one of them gathered around the black-haired idol. When she spoke again, her voice was even and strong. "If you care, then you'll support her. She needs help, and if you show you care, I'm sure she'll hear you. I'm sure it'll help her!"

Yukiho put her hands over her mouth, too shocked and awed to be embarrassed or afraid.

"If you want Yukiho to come back, give a cheer!" Makoto cried, lifting up a fist along with the other idols.

The crowd repeated her name again and again and again. Yukiho could barely breathe and had to cover her eyes, since there were tears coming out of them.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, from our hearts. I know that she's grateful, too. This last song is to thank you all!"

And so they all performed one last piece. Then it was over. Yukiho turned off the television and remained seated in front of it for a while. Then she got up, opened a window, and seated herself on the sill.

The night sky was open and clear. The stars seemed especially bright after she cleared her tears away. She watched them for a while. Then she stretched her arms out towards the sky and started to sing.


	13. Rebound

_September 1st, year 2_

The office felt vacant.

This was not the emptiness that habitually occurred because jobs and trainings kept them away from the office most of the time, but a sudden, crushing kind that invited silence. 765pro was down to - what was it now? seven idols? It seemed like a much smaller number. It made Miki's chest clench painfully whenever she thought about it.

At least with Azusa and Haruka, there had been weeks to adjust to and realize they were leaving. Yukiho's...incapacitation was like blowing a hole in the wall. Things were left gaping open. This feeling only solidified when Ritsuko and the President called everyone together and told them how the issue was going to be handled.

Tell no one what happened. Don't mention it on the radio, not in interviews, and if possible, not even to friends or family members. If it gets brought up, dodge it as safely as possible.

"This is not simply a publicity issue," the President sighed, his voice heavier than usual. "We must also consider Hagiwara-san's mental state. There is no telling what might happen if she were reminded of the incident."

A few of the gathered idols lowered their heads.

"Keep up the good work, everyone," the President said solemnly, and the idols filed away.

It almost felt like they were told to pretend it never happened. But it did happen - even if Miki wasn't around to see the act itself, she saw how Yukiho looked afterwards, and it was much too easy to imagine what would have been if she had been found mere seconds later. It was much too real to sweep under the carpet.

"If Mami-tachi can't talk about what happened to Yukipyon...then what about this?" Mami held out a script for an upcoming screen drama. "She had a huge part!"

Makoto took it in one hand, pondered it for a moment, then sighed and had a seat on the couch. "...I guess we just have to say that circumstances...changed."

Ami peered over the couch and narrowed her eyes at the script. "Nobody'd buy that. There needs to be a story."

Mami poked her head over the opposite side and met her twin's eye. "Something concrete. Something credible."

"Exactly. Yukiho Hagiwara, age 17, on a sudden whim, decided to dig all the way to South America, where she heard it was warm and sunny -"

Makoto slapped the script down on the coffee table with such a loud noise that the twins squeaked in surprise. Then she clasped her hands together and hung her head. "'S not something to joke about," she said though her teeth.

The Futami twins looked at each other again, slipped away from the couch and leaned against the wall, staring at their feet. Miki, who had watched this all from some distance away, came forward and sat by Makoto. Makoto sighed and buried her hands in her hair.

"...What are we supposed to do, though?" she said tonelessly.

Miki twiddled her thumbs a bit, then straightened. "We shouldn't be thinking about what we're going to say about her. We should try to think about what we can say to her." She turned to the others. "Isn't she more important than the reporters and paparazzi, anyway?"

Makoto's mouth hung slightly open for a moment. Then she smiled faintly. "Yeah, that's it."

* * *

><p>The motions of being an idol couldn't stop, no matter how turbulent matters were. The smiles, the rehearsals, the practices...Miki dove into them headfirst in search of some relief. Activity kept her mind off of the heaviness.<p>

She came into the locker room to get her workout bag when she heard quiet sniffling sounds from the other side of the room. She perked up, for the noise was a curiosity, but then felt a pang of guilt when she realized that it was the sound of crying. There was also some gentle speech nearby.

Miki approached as politely as she could. Iori was patting Yayoi on the back while the pigtailed girl wept on her shoulder. Iori looked up at the approaching idol with an expression that held an uneasy mixture of concern, irritation, and helplessness.

"What happened?" Miki asked softly.

"Uuuuuu...!" Yayoi wailed.

"I don't know - something about a locker," Iori answered after waiting a few seconds.

Yayoi turned from Iori's shoulder to look at the row of lockers in front of them, swallowing thickly a few times before speaking. "Well, it's...it's that, my locker is next to...Haruka-san's, the one that Haruka-san used to have," she sniffed loudly. "And today, I really thought about how she's not using it anymore, and then I thought about Yukiho-san, what if her locker has to be cleared out too -! Then there'll be an entire row..."

It so happened that Yukiho's locker was right in between Haruka's and Azusa's. Miki bit her tongue when she realized it. Even if they were all lined up and closed, there was a hanging gloom over them.

"I was just, thinking about it...and..." Yayoi wiped her eyes with her arm and tried to put on a firm expression. The edges of her mouth twitched. "I don't want any more holes in this wall, is all. I guess."

Miki stared at them for a moment before nodding. "Me neither."

Iori pondered them for a bit longer before tossing her head. "...I could move my things over to Haruka's locker, if it'd make you feel better."

"You would?"

"I could have it arranged. Mine creaks something awful anyway, and I deserve better, you know!" Iori pushed her hair back over her shoulder.

"Whoohoo!" Yayoi bounded up with her hands high in the air. Then she sat back down meekly. "I mean, I'd really like that."

Both of the others chuckled a bit. "In the meantime," Miki said, smiling, "Me and Makoto-kun are gonna do everything we can so that Yukiho locker stays hers, so that she can come back to it."

"Because she is coming back," Iori said matter-of-factly.

Yayoi wiped her eyes with a hand and grinned.

_September 21st, year 2_

Despite the huge amount of focus Miki put on her work and into the production, there were inevitable reminders that there were other people - other _distractions _- existed and wanted her attention. For instance, the racket her phone was making to inform her that she had some text messages. One of them was from Haruka.

Normally, Miki would open Haruka's messages up and then close them, so they would be marked as read, but this one in particular was short enough that a quick glance was enough to actually read it. She blinked and held her phone a little closer to her face.

_Are you free Thursday afternoon? Let's go out for lunch!_

Miki made a little noise in her throat and looked aside for a second. The other messages that Haruka sent were blurbs that she sent to everyone, but this was more or less a direct question. Even if she was...technically busy...it wasn't really right to leave it unanswered...

_busy on thursdays_

Because, after all, a reply didn't need to be elaborate.

The response came about a half minute later. _Aww! Not even next week?_

_not until november_

_Why is that? Are you recording a new song? Filming for a show maybe?_

_can't tell. it's a secret_

_Ok! ^.^_

There was silence for a while. Miki was about to put her phone away when it buzzed again.

_How have you been? I heard something happened._

Miki's jaw and shoulders clenched when she read that.

_everyone is ok._ She looked at that for a moment, decided that yes, that was indeed true, and sent it off.

_But what about you? I haven't heard from you in a while._

Another question she felt uncomfortable answering. _i'm fine. i just have a lot of work to do._

There was another pause. Miki pocketed her phone and waited for another reply. It came a few minutes later.

_Chihaya-chan, please let Miki answer her texts ^.^_

Miki's face flushed hot when she read that - first out of complete confusion, then out of anger for being mistaken as someone else. She wrote up a text containing nothing but emoticons, sent it away, and turned her phone off, leaving Haruka to puzzle over what happened on her own.

_October 14th, year 2_

"And cut! Let's break for ten and get back to shooting!"

Miki stretched and hopped down the stage to a sofa nearby. All the energetic dancing she had been doing had made her entire body tired, so instead of sitting down she flopped on top the back cushions and let her arms dangle. Ritsuko, who was overseeing the filming, seemed like she was about to sit down but decided against it. "You shouldn't do that, you know. It's rude."

"Nobody gives this part of the sofa any attention. It got lonely," Miki said without lifting her head.

Ritsuko sighed and had a seat on a chair nearby. She took out a pocketbook to make some marks inside.

"Ritsuko! Ritsukooo," Miki said in an attempt to get the other girl to turn around. It didn't work, so she shifted so she could have a look at the pocketbook. "...Our schedule's not really impressive."

"That's to be expected. A lot of our talent stepped out in a short amount of time, so people are suspicious," Ritsuko frowned.

"But the rest of us are as good as we've ever been. Better, even!" Miki beat the back of the sofa with a fist weakly. "We're not passé or anything!"

"Yes, well, it's not up to us to decide what the employers think," Ritsuko kicked her feet out idly.

Miki stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. After a moment, she said, "What we need is something new to grab everybody's attention. It always worked for me when the fans started getting bored."

"Really now. What are you thinking of?"

"You should make a new unit."

"_Really_."

"And you should make me the leader."

Ritsuko turned around to give Miki a flat look. "I don't see why I should trust you to behave in a unit I manage, considering I can't even get you to respect me enough to address me properly."

Miki stared back, gathered her breath, and opened her mouth wide. "Ritsuko-saaaaaaaaaaahhh..."

Ritsuko's expression became more and more incredulous with every passing second that Miki held on to the sound.

"-aaan," Miki clapped her mouth shut. "There, that should make up for every time I didn't say it. Come on! A unit you produced would be awesome!"

Ritsuko rolled her eyes and closed her pocketbook. "I'm 'producing' everyone right now. I'm busy enough without having to promote a new unit."

Miki wiggled on the couch in frustration. "Then let's get some new idols on board! Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I have a cousin..."

"That works too! Tell her to sign up then!"

"My cousin is a _boy_."

"Oh."

"Regardless," Ritsuko said sternly, crossing her arms, "that's not the best course of action. Just concentrate on the fall live coming up. That's what's going to reignite interest in 765pro."

Miki blinked. "You think so?"

"I'm sure of it," Ritsuko nodded, staring ahead defiantly.

"If you say so, Ritsuko," Miki said. The other girl snapped a glance at her. "...san."

_November 3rd, year 2_

The atmosphere around the office had a pleasant charge after the fall live. The openness felt like opportunity.

"Look at this!" Makoto squeaked, bursting into the breakroom where everyone was waiting for the President to come and make an announcement. She was holding up her phone and waving it around.

"Did you get a high score on your racing game?" Mami leaned forward excitedly.

Makoto sat down and held her phone out. Miki peered at it and read the message on it aloud. "'I'm going to be a new me'...it's from Yukiho!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Iori tipped her head slightly.

"I'm not sure, but I have a good feeling about this," Makoto said, smiling broadly.

"Is that so! Well, I hope you'll have a good feeling about what I'm going to say as well," said the President as he came into the room. The gathered idols stood and made a loose semicircle around him. "First and foremost, congratulations again for a wonderful live. Your hard work has not been missed, I assure you - and with the release of this article, we've been getting calls almost nonstop." He held up a magazine open to a page with photos from the concert. This was met with cheering and applause. Miki was especially proud and couldn't help but hug everyone nearby.

"Next, I'd like to inform you all that 765pro is on the lookout for a new Producer," he said.

This was met with a surprised silence for a second or two, then an absolute outburst of excited noise. It felt like someone had dropped a hunk of ice in Miki's chest.

"A new Producer?" Yayoi asked, almost bouncing with energy. "We're getting a new Producer?"

"When are we going to meet him?" Ami rubbed her hands together.

"Why do we need a Producer? We already have Ritsuko-san!" Miki shouted over the racket, surprising even herself with the force of her exclamation. This quieted everyone else for a moment.

"Now then, Miki-kun, even Ritsuko-kun needs some help!" the President said with a laugh.

Miki actually felt a bit faint. "...Oh," she said after a while. The energetic chatter bubbled up again shortly after. She sat back down on the couch and put a hand on her forehead. She took a deep breath and let it out as a quiet, long sigh.


End file.
